Resurface
by TheMortalOlympian
Summary: <html><head></head>22 year old Clary Fray is a successful young author living in New York. 23 year old Jace Wayland is a budding actor living in Los Angeles. Jace hates Clary... or so she thinks. When he suddenly resurfaces in her life and they decide to give friendship a try, will they finally realize what their friends had been telling them for years, or will they never get the hint? Clace AU AH.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**CPoV:**

I wake up to my phone screaming that obscenely annoying jingle that rang through my skull. Seriously, even though it's the "age of the smart phone", I love my reliable flip phone. _But _it only has about five ringtone choices. Shaking my head, I peer down at the caller ID on the little front screen. Hodge Starkweather—my publicist. I groan inwardly, flipping the phone open and pressing the green "call" button.

"Hello?" I mumble into the receiver. I love, Hodge, don't get me wrong, but he really does like to push my buttons.

"Clary—did you just wake up?" he asks in a very parental tone. I push myself out of the comforting embrace of my mattress and zombie-walk down the stairs leading up to my loft style bedroom and across the hard wood floor of my apartment to the large bathroom.

"Maybe," I garble around my toothbrush.

"Clarissa Fray! You are twenty-two years old!" he scolds while I spit my toothpaste into the marble sink, rinsing the brush under a stream of cold water. "You need to learn how to get your non-existent ass out of bed ON TIME!" I scoff, craning my head back to examine my butt. It really _is_ non-existent isn't it? It's the same with my chest. My short, five foot, nothing stature and wild mess of flaming red curls don't help either—I look more like a twelve-year-old girl, rather than a twenty-two-year-old woman.

"What do you want?" I whine, hurrying back up to my bedroom to get ready for whatever event Hodge throws at me.

"Imogen called me," he says abruptly and I stop dead in my tracks.

Eyes wide, I ask cautiously, "What did she want?" My publicist audibly sighs from the other end of the line.

"She _needs_ the last chapter of your book," he says, annoyance plain in his voice. I groan out loud this time.

"Ugh! I thought we agreed on Saturday!" I say incredulously. My editor, Imogen Herondale, is one of the coldest people I know. She's always negative and cynical and seeing her is _definitely_ not one of my favorite things in the world. But she makes me a better writer, and that is why I went to her in the first place. Normally she would wait until I called her to update her on my progress with the book I was currently writing. But when she started calling my publicist, that meant she was angry—and when she was angry… she was scary.

"I know!" Hodge yells back, still annoyed. "I guess she got impatient!"

"Umm…" I say, my brain working furiously to find a way to appease the demon that is my editor. "If I work _REALLY _hard… I guess I can get it to her on Wednesday," I say letting out a long, slow breath.

"Oh!" the older man exclaims. "That's _amazing!_ I'll see what I can do!" I smile, relieved that we might actually quell the beast.

"Okay, I'm going right now to write."

"Okay, Clary, girl. Love you," he says kissing into the phone.

"Love you too, Hodge," I reply kissing back and snapping the phone shut. I drop it on my disheveled bed, going over to rummage through my dresser for something to wear. I finally settle for a short sleeved, black cotton crop top that exposes my belly button and a pair of_ very_ expensive, yet _super_ adorable and comfortable pair of denim shorts that hang low on my thin waist. After applying the necessities (deodorant, lip balm, and a little perfume), I wrestle my unruly hair into two French braids going straight down the back of my head. Stuffing my laptop into my frayed messenger bag and grabbing my car keys, I sling the bag over my shoulders and head downstairs into the main part of the apartment again.

"Isabelle!" I shout wondering if my roommate—and best friend of twenty years—were even awake yet. I find her contorted into a complicated yoga pose on top of her bright pink yoga mat in our beautiful, and newly remodeled, living room.

"Hey!" she breathes. "You're up!" She unbends herself and rolls the mat up, taking a large sip of her flavored water. _Why was everybody already up!_ I think to myself, exasperated. _It was nine o'clock, for Christ's sake!_

"Yeah," I reply following her to the kitchen, "I was going to the park to finish writing my book." I grab a banana and a granola bar and stuff them in my bag for later—I'm really feeling that hungry. Izzy grabs another granola bar from the same box and rips the packaging off, hungrily devouring about half of it in one bite. She pauses only to sweep her silky curtain of long, black hair into a high ponytail.

"Kay kay," she replies, perkily. "I have to get back to the studio anyway. They want me to retake a few of the new shots," she finishes, huffing in a very annoyed manner. Isabelle Lightwood is an extremely amazing model who poses for pretty much any couture brand you could think of: Armani, Prada, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Ralph Lauren, and Vera Wang— the list goes on. We are both extremely successful for people our age. Me being a best-selling novelist at nineteen and her appearing in every Marc Jacobs ad in the June issue of Elle magazine at the same age.

Izzy was extremely popular in high school and was always asked to attend parties, raves, and what-have-you. She dragged me every single one. Partying wasn't really my thing, but I got slightly more into it during college. After we had graduated, we started going almost every weekend.

"We're still going out tonight right?" she asks as I grab a water bottle from the cabinet and begin rinsing it out.

"Of _course_, Iz! It's your freaking _birthday_!" I exclaim, looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Well, I never know with you!" she exclaims right back, gracefully hopping up on the counter and sipping her flavored water again. I laugh filling the newly clean bottle with ice and then water and stuffing into my bag along with the rest of my crap.

I look at the clock on the wall and swear. "I gotta get going. The beast wants the last chapter by Wednesday now," I say slipping into the sandals that were left by the bench in the corner of the room.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" my raven haired best friend exclaims, recognizing right away who I'm talking about. "She really is a demon, isn't she?" I roll my eyes at the thought of how annoying Imogen is and sprint toward the door.

"Clary! Wait!" I hear Isabelle call as I slam the apartment door behind me. I'm halfway down the hall when I realize I'm without a _very_ important part of me—my phone. Rushing back and banging the door back open, I find Izzy holding it in her grasp, her free hand planted on her hip, and tapping her toe looking a cross between amused and annoyed.

"Thanks," I reply sheepishly grabbing it back and shoving it into the black abyss that is my messenger bag.

"Ya-huh," she replies, smiling and rolling her eyes playfully. I shake my head, smiling and make my way back out the apartment door.

After an excruciatingly slow drive due to unexplainably heavy traffic, I arrive at Central Park. Parking along the side of the road and killing the engine, I grab my bag and make my way toward the picnic tables in a secluded corner of the park. I already have the idea of the direction I want the end of my new book to go in, so the words flow easily from my mind.

After eating my sorry excuse for a breakfast, I get back to work. I'm in the middle of an extremely important thought when my computer is snatched away before my eyes.

"_Hey!_ Give that back you jerk!" I scream whipping my head up to see who the thief is. I start. Standing in front of me is an _extremely_ attractive man, not much older than myself, with pale skin and jet black hair that hangs slightly in his eyes. He's staring at me with a pair of obsidian eyes that have a wicked glint in them and his mouth is turned up into an equally wicked smirk. My MacBook is clutched lazily in his fingers.

"Hey pretty thing," he says huskily, "I'm Sebastian,"

"Well, hello, Sebastian," I say, my voice full of disgust. "Now, how about you give me back my laptop before I call the police," I finish, pulling my phone from messenger bag.

"Hey, baby, there's no need for that," he says stepping around the picnic table and closer to me. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

I scoff. "Why don't you just give me back my computer and leave me the _hell _alone." My cheeks are burning. Who does he think he is? He was already painfully close and was getting closer. Something about this guy scares me even when he wasn't in close proximity.

Snatching my computer back from his grasp, I take a few hasty steps back, only to have my lower back impaled with the edge of another picnic table. Sebastian is closing the gap between us, coming closer and closer. I start to panic, grasping the edge of the wooden table.

"Please," I gulp, "just—leave me alone."

"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you _are_ going to come home with me," he replies, closing the small gap between us now. Shivers run up and down my spine and I turn my face away from his hot breath. I can feel his lips turn into a cruel smirk.

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze my eyes shut. "Get off me," I whisper feebly. I feel his smile widen.

"No," he breathes. I flinch and—Sebastian is wrenched from my body.

**Author's Note: Okay, so there's chapter one. Sorry if it sucks (this is only my first fanfiction). Yes, I hate Sebastian, so I don't think he will be in here too many times. Hmm... I wonder who came to Clary's rescue? Fortunately you won't have to wait to find out because I'm posting another chapter right after this. Please review my lovelies? (It would mean a lot ;)**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**CPoV:**

Eyes still welded shut, I hear an all too familiar—and hated—voice. "She said leave her alone," the other man growls. My first thought: _What is Jace Wayland doing back in New York? _My second thought: _Why the_ hell_ was he protecting me?_ Jace Wayland is the best friend of Isabelle's older brother, Alec. I have known the both of them for twenty years also. Jace and I never got along as kids and we still don't get along now—only now, we use slightly more sophisticated language… like a lot of swearing.

I peel my eyes open to see the Jace in all his golden glory, pinning Sebastian against the edge of the picnic table I had originally sat at. Sebastian's shirt collar is fisted in Jace's strong grip, and his free hand is balled into a fist behind his head.

"Don't even _think_ about laying another _finger_ on that woman. Do you hear me, you piece of shit?" Jace spits his golden eyes blazing. _Wait—had Jace Wayland just called me a woman? _That is _very_ uncharacteristic of him. He always goes on and on about how I had the body of a child. I grab my water bottle from my bag and start drinking—suddenly I am _very_ in need some Jack Daniels or a beer or something.

"Okay! _Okay!_" Sebastian pleads, wincing as the other man jerks his fist forward slightly. "Dude I didn't know she was your girlfriend. Look, I'm sorry, just—just let me go, man." I choke on the sip of water I'm taking—coughing and gagging, nearly doubled over. _Girlfriend?!_ Giving him a murderous glare, Jace thrusts Sebastian out of his grip. Sebastian stumbles away looking more than mortified. I slam my bottle down on the table—suddenly furious with this bastard.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I practically scream at him. His nose crinkles up with confusion.

"I thought I was helping you," he drawls, his arrogant and cocky façade back in a flash.

"I don't need your help," I mumble weakly.

"Well it sure didn't _look_ that way when that piece of shit was copping a feel on you," he retorts. I feel myself instantly blush and curse my porcelain skin for showing it off so well. His mouth quirks up at the corners when he sees that his ability to pull a reaction from me never fails.

"What in God's name are you even _doing _here?" I ask savagely.

"You never really _were _that bright," he muses, his smirk growing. I roll my eyes as he continues. "It's my best friend's sister's _birthday_, Clarissa," he goes on, knowing full well I loathe my full name. "Isabelle invited me. She said something about wanting to 'get the gang back together.'"

Okay so that's _so_ bad. It's been a like a year since we have all gone out together properly. When Jace moved out to California before the rest of us started college to pursue some stupid acting career, everyone else claimed that it felt like a piece of us was missing, even though I insisted I was happy to see him go. He never ceased to make my life a living hell. But the hollow feeling in my chest said differently.

"Oh," I reply. "So you'll be back in L.A. no later than tomorrow night," I finish, barely concealing the excitement and relief I feel at the thought.

"See actually, love," he says giving me a sly smile that makes me cringe, "I've been missing my hometown, so I thought I'd move back. There are plenty of great acting opportunities here. I've already sold my place in L.A. and Iz said I could crash with you until I find my own place." He's beaming, obviously proud of himself. My eyes fly wide and my jaw nearly hits the ground.

"She did _what?_" I shriek. "Why couldn't you have stayed with Alec and Magnus? Or even _Simon_ for fuck's sake?"

"This isn't exactly a picnic for me either, Clare-bear," he says, using the second nickname he had given me when I was five and he was six, that, for some reason, people reserve exclusively for his use. I don't even know why he calls me that—it suggests something way more friendly than what our actual relationship is. "I mean, I'm used to waking up to a beautiful ocean view. Instead I have to wake up to… _that_," he says, using his whole hand to gesture at my face. He just can't let one go can he?

"You're such a dick!" I shout. Suddenly my phone begins to ring obnoxiously in my bag. I fish it out and look at the caller ID. It's Hodge again. I groan out loud. I really can't handle anymore Imogen drama on top of _this_.

"I've got to take this," I tell Jace so I don't appear rude.

"Still using the same shitty flip phone you had in high school, huh, Clare-bear?" he asks just to piss me off—he knows how attached I am to the thing.

Pressing the green 'call' button and putting the phone to my ear, I shout, "Shut up, _asshat!_" Only then do I realize that I'm on the phone with Hodge.

"Umm… Clary?"

"Oh, my God, Hodge I'm so sorry I was talking to—"

"Jace Wayland?" he cuts in a guess.

"The one and only," I sigh. "How did you know?"

"Publicists talk," is all he says in reply.

"Okay, then," I say taking a deep breath and bracing myself for the Imogen news. Jace is looking at me curiously. "What's the news?"

After a dramatic pause, my publicist finally speaks. "She moved the deadline back to Saturday!" Hodge squeals.

"_No,_" I say in utter shock. "Hodge, don't you dare shit with me like that. Don't even _freaking_ dare."

"No, Clary," he insists, "she really did! She said she overbooked Wednesday and I guess she was feeling exceptionally un-demon-like today because she agreed to go back to our original agreement on Saturday!"

"Oh, my _God!_" I squeal, jumping up and down a few times like a little girl. Jace is looking at me even more amused and curious than before. "_We quelled the beast!_"

"_I know!_" he squeals right back. "Okay, Clary," he continues, suddenly all business again, "I have another meeting, but were still on for tomorrow at lunch right?"

"Of course, Hodge. I'll see you then," I reply.

"Love you, Clary."

"Love you too." And then I hang up and shove the phone back in my bag.

"Okay," Jace says laughing that really sexy laugh of his that has every girl fawning over him—except me. "What was _that_ all about?"

"Author stuff," I reply tersely. "You wouldn't understand."

"Why?" he asks, rolling his eyes.

"Because you're—" I start hotly.

"A bubble-headed and conceited actor who doesn't understand anything and cares only about himself?" he interjects lazily. Oh. Those were the exact words I had said to him the day he left. When I was explaining why I wouldn't miss him. My face falls.

"Jace…" I say quietly. "I'm sorry for—for saying that. It was totally uncalled for…" I trail off thinking about that day and the ground-shaking argument we'd had. I feel tears rimming my eyelids, threatening to spill over, as I think about the pure fury in his eyes and in his voice as he shouted at me. Ever since we were kids we had _never_ gotten along that well, but I'd never seen him so angry at me before. The look on his face scared me then and it still scares me now. I brush the feelings off immediately.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Clary," he says looking into my eyes. His golden ones never cease to amaze me. They are so rich and mesmerizing. "It's in the past."

"I really am sorry," I reply softly. There's a pause before he answers.

"I know. Look—I'm tired of fighting with you Clary. I don't even remember why it started in the first place." He looks almost hopeful. "Do you think we could stop trying to hate each other… and maybe be… friends?" My face softens. I never actually hated him. We actually used to be really close when we were really young. Then one day he just started making fun of me. I was nine, he was ten.

"I never hated you," I reply softly, looking again into his luminous golden eyes. He blinks, startled.

"Y-you didn't… you don't?" he stutters. Jace Wayland doesn't stutter. I shake my head slightly. I then do something that, I think, surprises me more than it surprises him—I stretch up and snake my arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. I feel him stiffen under me, but he only hesitats a second before securing his muscled arms around my waist, hugging me back. I shiver as his hands and arms come in contact with the bare strip of skin revealed by my crop top.

"I missed you, Jace," I whisper quietly. So quietly, I hope that he doesn't hear it. But of course… he does. I feel a chuckle vibrate through his chest before he replies.

"I missed you too, Clare-bear." Heat floods into my cheeks, surely turning them a very unattractive shade of crimson. Jace pulls back to look at me and smiles. I suddenly wonder what it would feel like to have those lips on mine. They look so soft and full and… sexy—_snap the _fuck_ out of it, Clary!_ I scold myself internally for thinking such things. He's Jace Wayland with the angelic, yet rugged good looks and the women falling at his feet. I'm just nerdy Clary Fray with the pale skin and spray of freckles and mop of shocking red hair. I pull fully out of his arms and go to collect my stuff without meeting his golden eyes with my emerald ones.

"We should go if you want to get situated in the apartment before tonight," I say and start walking towards my car, leaving him staring curiously after me.

**A/N: Okay, there's chapter two! I don't know how often I'm going to be updating, but I will try to make it as often as possible. Until next time, my lovelies! Don't forget to R&R!**

**~MG**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, I know I said that I was only posting two chapters today, but I never expected to have this many views and positive reactions on my first story so I wrote another one. Plus, I really wanted to try out Jace's point of view so here we go!**

**Also, if it didn't show up in the last two chapters, here is the disclaimer-**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare**

**Chapter 3**

**JPoV:**

When I told Clary that I didn't remember why we started fighting mercilessly, I had been lying straight through my teeth. I remember the day I had started the childish war like it was yesterday. It was the day I had realized that I liked Clary. At first it was just an innocent crush—I was ten for Christ's sake. I remember being fascinated by her fiery mane of bright red curls and light spray of freckles across her nose. I remember the feeling being so weird to me that I didn't know how to react and ended up calling her 'Carrot', to which she responded by calling me 'Goldie Locks'… I guess I had that one coming.

As time went on, I found myself becoming more and more attracted to her—and me liking Clarissa Fray morphed from a ten-year-old crush to pretty much loving her by the time we graduated high school. By that time she was so furious with me for the years of taunting and teasing that I was absolutely sure she wanted nothing to do with me—but I couldn't (and still can't) get her out of my head, even with all the other girls that I used as distractions. They never meant anything to me—all I could think about—all I can ever think about is her.

Our friends would joke _all the time_ in high school about Clary and I having "a thing" for each other, but I was so sure that she hated me. I could never let the others know how I felt for fear that they might tell her. No. I had to keep it a secret. I had to pretend like I hated her too. Looking back, I realize how stupid I was.

Clary has really grown up from that nerdy, awkward girl in high school to a true woman in the time that I've been living in California. Sure she's still short, but she looks more mature and even more beautiful than I remember. And that shirt she's wearing today… all I can think is why the fuck nobody told me she got a _belly button piercing._ A BELLY BUTTON PIERCING. I swear to God it was almost enough to make me grab her and kiss her right there.

_Snap out of it, Jace! She doesn't want you, she _hates _you!_ A part of my brain screams at me as I watch her walk away from me. But another part argues right back. _Then why did she just hug you like that, huh? _It shouts at the first part of my brain. The first part decides to counter with an old classic, _you just saved her from that shit-bag. She was just thanking you. I doesn't mean anything._ My mind is warring with itself the entire time I'm following the red-head back to her car. When we reach the white BMW convertible, Clary turns and seems surprised to see me still standing there.

"Didn't you ride your _precious_ motorcycle here?" she inquires sarcastically. I roll my eyes.

"No," I reply with all the patience I can muster. "I'm having it shipped over. It should be here soon." She narrows her dazzling green eyes at me.

"So how did you get here?" she asks.

"I took a cab," I say evenly.

"From the airport?"

"No, from your apartment."

"How did you know the address?" I roll my eyes again at this question.

"Izzy texted me." Clary looks at me for a few moments, almost like she is sizing me up.

Finally she speaks again. "You seem to have all the answers." I chuckle. _She's relentless._

"Well, you seem to have all the questions," I reply. "Look, can I just have a ride?" I ask after a pause. The red-head crosses her slender arms over her chest and her mouth quirks up at the corner.

"I hope you like _The Script_," she says unlocking the car and walking around to the driver's side. I hop in the passenger seat and scoff.

"Come on, Clare-bear," I say shaking my head. I see her roll her eyes at my use of her nickname. "You know they're my favorite."

"Well, I just wasn't sure if living out in _fancy, schmancy_ L.A. for four years has changed your opinion on was good music," she replies sarcastically and pulls into the road. Pressing a few buttons, Clary starts to play the one thing we had always agreed on as kids—"Breakeven" by _The Script._ Our favorite song. A smile stretches on both of our faces as the music starts and I can't help singing along with her.

_I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing  
><em>_Just praying to a god that I don't believe in  
><em>_'__Cause I got time while she got freedom  
><em>_'__Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even_

_Her best days were some of my worst  
><em>_She finally met a man that's gonna put her first  
><em>_While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping  
><em>_'__Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even…even…no_

We start laughing as we sing at the top of our lungs for the chorus.

_What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?  
><em>_And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay?  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces, yeah,  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces_

I look over at how beautiful Clary looks, nodding her head to the beat of the music, a wide grin plastered to her face. The next verse starts and we're singing again.

_They say bad things happen for a reason  
><em>_But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding  
><em>_'__Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving  
><em>_And when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even…even…no  
><em>

_What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you?  
><em>_And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay?  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces, yeah  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces, yeah  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces  
><em>_(One still in love while the other one's leaving)  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces  
><em>_('Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even)  
><em>

_Oh, you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain  
><em>_You took you suitcase, I took the blame  
><em>_Now I'm tryin' to make sense of what little remains, ooh  
><em>_'__Cause you left me with no love and honor to my name_

We pull up to a red light and she closes her eyes briefly as the music gets quieter.

_I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing  
><em>_Just praying to a God that I don't believe in_

She starts to drive again.

_'__Cause I got time while she got freedom  
><em>_'__Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break..  
><em>_No, it don't break  
><em>_No, it don't break even, no_

By this point we're shouting and laughing again as the final chorus starts.

_What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you?  
><em>_And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay?  
><em>_(Oh glad you're okay now)  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces, yeah  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces, yeah  
><em>_(Oh I'm falling, falling)  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces  
><em>_(One still in love while the other one's leaving)  
><em>_I'm falling to pieces  
><em>_('Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even)  
><em>_Oh, it don't break even no  
><em>_Oh, it don't break even no  
><em>_Oh, it don't break even no_

The music fades out and she pull onto the street where her apartment building stands. It's a tall, extremely modern looking structure that stands out considerably from all the red brick edifices surrounding it. We walk through the clear glass revolving door in silence as if the last four minutes and twenty one seconds didn't exist.

A man about my age with shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes suddenly steps out of the stainless steel elevator and his face splits into a grin when he sees Clary. I'm immediately on my guard, wanting to know who this guy is.

"Hey, little red," he greets her animatedly walking over to fist-bump a waiting Clary. That grin I love so much reappears as she looks up at him, but this time it's met with a twist of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey, babe," she says back laughing. "Where ya' going?" The twist in my stomach turns into the pierce of a knife at her choice of greeting. _Is this her boyfriend?_

"Oh, I gotta' go to my tux fitting," the man says with a mixture of what seems to be excitement and annoyance at the same time—impressive. "Only a few more weeks," he finishes shaking his head.

"I know!" Clary exclaims. "Oh, hey, you're coming tonight right?" she asks as if just remembering.

"You know it," the guy replies. "Look I've gotta run, but I'll see you tonight, Clary," he says inclining his head toward me for the first time. I nod back and watch with distaste as he shoulders out the door, removing a set of keys from his pocket in the process.

I look at Clary with narrowed golden eyes. "Who was that?" I ask cautiously as we walk into the elevator. She scoffs.

"When did you get so protective?" she asks right back rolling her eyes. "That's Jordan," she adds after a pause. "He lives down the hall from me and Izzy. He's getting married to his fiancée, Maia in a few weeks. They're coming to the club tonight for Izzy's birthday."

I mouth 'oh' as we step off the elevator and into a long hallway. For some unknown reason—_lie_—the reason is completely known—I feel better knowing that that guy is getting married to someone else. I want my shot with Clary and I'm going to get it one way or another—hell I've waited long enough.

**A/N: Okay, there it is! Chapter three! I hope you guys like it and don't forget to R&R! **

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**CPoV:**

All I keep thinking is how this whole thing is just so bizarre. Jace Wayland just magically shows up in my life again after four years and suddenly we decide to become friends and do a car-ride sing-along together as if we _hadn't _spent thirteen years insulting each other. And now all of a sudden he's interested in my personal life? What the hell is that all about? _And what the fuck was that hug all about?_

The minute I shoulder open the door to the apartment, I drop my keys in the bowl on the chest in the hall and make a bee-line for the kitchen, almost forgetting that Jace is even here in my haste to down some alcohol.

"You want a drink?" I call to the golden boy over my shoulder.

"Ooh! I'd _love_ a martini!" Isabelle exclaims, popping around a corner and scaring the living daylights out of me. I jump and a yelp escapes my lips.

"_Jesus, Isabelle!_" I say, turning my wide eyes to my raven haired best friend. "You scared the shit out of me!" She just laughs loudly and runs over to give Jace a hug.

"It really _is_ good to see you again, Jace…" I hear her start to say as I continue my trek to the kitchen. I pull open the stainless steel refrigerator door and peer inside. Immediately my eyes focus on my emergency stash of beer in the back. I grab a bottle and twist it open in about five seconds flat and then I take a _very_ long gulp, grasping the edge of the countertop as if it is my only lifeline to sanity.

The kitchen door swings open and Izzy and Jace walk in. They both arch a single eyebrow (something that I've never been able to do) when they see me guzzling beer like an Irishman. I pause, narrowing my eyes at them.

"What?" I ask around the bottle before taking another sip. I see Jace looking at me with amusement and I scowl sipping again. Izzy rushes over, snatching the drink from my hand. I make a startled and somewhat indignant noise.

"Ooookay," she says laughing, "I think that's enough." I gape at her.

"But my special juice!" I whine, pouting in a particularly childish manner. The golden nuisance is standing in the corner looking about ready to pee himself in laughter. His handsome features are all twisted up and hidden behind the back of his hand as he tries—failing miserably—to cover his amusement with a cough. I look back to Isabelle, who has succeeded in emptying the alcohol into the sink and disposing of the bottle. She has her perfectly manicured hands on her slender hips and is eyeing me with a clearly mock-motherly expression.

"Clarissa," she chides, "what did we say about your special juice?" At this point Jace isn't even trying to hide it anymore, as he laughs gleefully from his corner. I deliberately pause after she asks the question, knowing the answer, but feeling in too immature a mood to reply. Izzy gives me another expectant glare and I sigh heavily.

"It's not for every day," I grumble rolling my eyes. Then my best friend starts laughing, and I quickly follow, at the inside joke that's been going for years.

"You know I'm just kidding, Clary!" she exclaims. "But seriously, though, save it for the club! I don't want you wasted before we even _get there!_" And then she flounces out of the room, probably to spend hours going through her walk-in closet to pick out the "perfect outfit" for tonight. I cringe as I remember that she is probably going to dress me up too.

"Special juice?" a voice says suddenly, behind me, and I jump. I turn around to see Jace's swirling, golden eyes alight with amusement. I snort and roll my eyes.

"Inside joke," I tell him and he seems to get the picture. "Do you want anything? We just went grocery shopping so we're fully stocked," I question him as I rummage through the sleek white cabinets.

"You got any mangoes?" he asks. I slow my motions before stopping completely, and slowly turn to face him.

"Mangoes?" I repeat. Jace just shrugs. "Um, I don't think so?" I continue phrasing it as a question, my confusion at his request still very apparent. "But we could always swing by the store again and grab a few."

"It's a date," he replies cracking that damn lopsided grin of his. Even though I'm absolutely sure he meant it sarcastically, I'm still hyperaware of the sensation of my stomach dropping at his words. _It's a date…_

"_CLARY!" _Izzy hollers from her bedroom, successfully bringing me back to reality.

"Yeah, Iz?"

"Come here! We need to pick you out an outfit for tonight!" My eyes fly wide I look to Jace who is sniggering under his breath. I mouth _help me_ to him, my expression becoming ever more frantic. He chuckles before saving my ass.

"Uh, actually, Iz," he starts as I run to the chest the hall and grab my keys again, slinging my bag over my shoulder and pocketing my phone, "Clary and I were going to go to the grocery store right now." He comes sauntering into the hall eating one of our granola bars—man I had no idea those would be so popular when I bought them. Isabelle's raven-haired head pops out of her bedroom doorway, a confused look on her face.

"But we just went shopping," she states. "Don't you want to start getting ready for tonight?" she asks.

"Mangoes, Izzy!" I exclaim suddenly. "We forgot mangoes and, I mean, how we could forget mangoes. They have to be like the most exotic fruit ever…" and as I continue on with my mindless babble about mangoes, I see my best friend shrug and walk back into her room calling 'goodbye' over her shoulder. I'm still vomiting words as Jace and I walk out the apartment door.

"Clary… _Clary_," he says and I finally stop and turn to face him. "You can stop now." I blush furiously at how stupid I probably look right now.

"Sorry," I mumble. "But you do _not_ know what hell is until you've allowed Izzy to 'help you get ready'," I say, putting air quotes around my words. Jace just laughs. It's a deep and sexy sound that seems to vibrate through his entire body. _No, no, no, no, no, no, NO. _I can_not_ afford to think like this—if I do then it could lead to feeling for Jace, and that could lead to a broken heart because it's obvious he doesn't feel the same way… right? _Where's my special juice when I need it?!_

We walk onto the elevator and I push the 'lobby button'. "You're going to have to drive," Jace states. "I don't remember where anything in this city anymore." I watch him as, suddenly, his eyes flick down to my stomach. "Speaking of not remembering… did you always have that belly button piercing?" he questions raising a golden eyebrow. I blush even more furiously than before and I gaze down at my flat, pale stomach. Sure enough, there's the piercing that I never seem to remember is there—a circle cut, diamond stud winking up at me.

"Um… no," I reply making an effort to look anywhere but at the golden man standing next to me. "I got it last year after Iz and I graduated from NYU. I always forget that it's there," I say matter-of-factly. Jace chuckles.

"Well, well, well," he comments, mischievously, "Our Clare-bear has a wild side. What else are you keeping from me, Miss Fray? A tattoo, perhaps. Maybe even a secret, epic romance with a convicted felon—" he cuts off with a huge peal of laughter as I smack him on the arm, making an indignant noise. Just then, the elevator dings and the door slides open revealing a head of black hair and shockingly black eyes.

**A/N: Hey, hey, everybody! So this is chapter four! Hmmmmmm... black hair and black eyes... whoever could it be? (cue sarcasm). And if it is who we all think it is... what is he doing in Clary's apartment building? Dun dun dun!I think next chapter will be the club scene... so I hope it doesn't disappoint. Please review? Maybe? Hopefully? Possibly? (It would make me ****_really_**** happy!)**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare ;)**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare ;)**

**Chapter 5**

**JPoV:**

My laughter cuts off abruptly and next to me Clary shrieks. The wave of protectiveness I felt at the park earlier today washes over me again—this time even more fierce. I thought I told this guy to fuck off… and why is he at her apartment building? If he's stalking her I swear to all that is good and holy…

"Well, well, well," Sebastian drawls, "Isn't this just a happy coincidence?" His eyes are hungry as he rakes them over Clary's petite form. _Does he not remember running away from me in fear? _

"What are you doing here?" the little red-head spits, sounding much more courageous than her wide, emerald eyes are suggesting. The other man just laughs and the sound makes my stomach flip—it sounds cold and empty and humorless, just like him.

"Hmm," Sebastian hums, "Well it just so happens that I'm moving in here, although I didn't know this was where you lived as well…"

"Stop looking at me like that," Clary states firmly. His smirk deepens.

"Like what, sweetheart?" I'm clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides. _He's moving in here… he could hurt her… I have to get him away from her—or her away from him—or whatever works._

"Hey, asshole, remember me?" I growl. Sebastian rolls his obsidian eyes lazily over me.

"Oh, yes I remember you, and you know, I've been thinking," he pauses, flicking his eyes to Clary once more. "There's no way that the two of you could be dating." My eyes harden as I step forward, my fists clenched so tight that my nails are digging into my skin. Clary has shrunk against the wall and is looking on with apprehension.

"And why is that?" I grind out.

"You're way too good looking to ever date her," he states and at my shocked expression adds, "Hey I recognize a good looking man when I see one."

"Then why are you coming on to her?" I ask slowly. Rage is bubbling up inside of me and I know any minute I'm going to snap. How dare he do this to Clary… my beautiful red-head.

The black haired boy gives a short laugh before replying. "Because she looks like a fun time." That is the last straw. Something inside me snaps and I'm lunging at this asshole in front of me.

"_You son of a_ _BITCH!" _I shout and throw a punch straight to his jaw. Sebastian reels backward, clutching his face and I grab his shirt collar, yanking him painfully close to my face.

"I suggest," I say in a deadly calm voice that is dripping with venom, "That you forget whatever apartment you bought here and take your pale _skinny _ass as _far_ away from here as possible before I beat you to oblivion." My eyes blaze with fury as I look to see that he has finally gotten the message. "Do you understand me, you piece of shit?" He nods slowly and I thrust him out of my grip as if it burns me to touch event he clothes on his back. _I hope to God he finally gets the message._ As he scrambles back through the lobby of the building, past a very terrified, slightly confused looking receptionist, I turn to look at Clary whose eyes are wide—with shock, fear… disgust, I haven't a clue.

"Jace…" she says cautiously. I close my eyes and sigh.

"God, Clary, I'm so sorry—" but she cuts me off by throwing her arms around me, hugging me tightly for the second time that day. This time I didn't hesitate before snaking my arms back around her slim waist, my skin tingling at the contact of my skin on hers. I revel in the fact that she fits so perfectly against me, like two puzzle pieces. I rest my head on top of hers and breath in, smelling… strawberries? _Christ, she even smells good too._

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly. I actually feel her take a shuddering breath before she replies.

"I'm fine." I know instantly that she's lying. I wonder why she even bothers… I would be able to know if she was telling even the smallest white lie from a mile away. When you look at her, you can see it in her eyes—they almost get duller when she lies, as if doing it drains the energy from her. But you can hear it in her voice too, although, it's not as obvious if you don't know what to listen for. There's a waver her usually silk-smooth voice—it's slight, but it's there.

"You don't have to lie to me, Clary," I say in all seriousness. "I just want to make sure you're alright." Clary takes another shuddering breath and then I begin to feel moisture seep through my shirt. It takes me a second before I realize that she's crying. Something inside me breaks when I realize how freaked out she is by that guy and I crush her small body more tightly to mine.

"How did he find me, Jace?" she chokes through quiet sobs. My heart breaks. I need to try to calm her down, but I don't exactly know how—believe it or not, I'm not really all that great at dealing with feelings…

"I'm sure it really was just a coincidence, Clare-bear," I say, gently rocking us back and forth as she continues to cry into my chest.

"What if he comes b-back? What if h-he does something to me?" the little red-head asks frantically and the surge of protectiveness washes over me again. "I-I can't even imagine what he would h-have done if you hadn't shown up at the park this m-morning!" I release my arms from her waist, then, but grab hold of her thin arms pushing her back so I can look at her tear streaked face. She has a bit of eye makeup smudged under lashes and her beautiful, emerald eyes are bloodshot.

"Clarissa Adele Fray," I start, and watch as she blinks in surprise at my fierceness, "I will never let him touch you. I will _never_ let _anything_ happen to you." I bite my lip as I watch another tear trail down her face, but then she just folds herself against me again and we stand there in the middle of the apartment building lobby, hugging as people stream from the elevator and glass entrance doors giving us weird looks.

I'm distantly aware of the fact that I might have just blown my cover of my feelings for Clary, but right now I'm too damn comfortable to care. All I know is that I wish I could stay like this forever.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

Clary had finally calmed down enough to resume our little "date" to the grocery store. Of course she insisted on fixing her makeup quickly—I didn't object—she looked like a raccoon. We got my mangoes at the grocery store—don't ask, I just like them—and when we get back to the apartment, Isabelle, Clary and I all take showers in prep for later and then agree to watch a movie.

We're all sprawled on their couches in the living room watching _Captain America_—It's one of Clary's favorite movies as well as one of mine, but Izzy only agreed because she thinks Chris Evans is 'like totally, amazingly hot' and whatever. Apparently Clary has seen the movie as many times as I have and we have fun quoting his lines and annoying the raven haired girl.

Before we know it, it's 6:30 and there's a knock on the door. Isabelle squeals and I wince in pain at my eardrums being shredded. She starts jumping around and Clary is looking on amusedly.

"They're here!" Izzy shouts. "They're here, they're here, _they're here!_" Then she runs to get the door. I turn to the living room entrance when I hear the loud murmur of voices and I break out into a huge grin. Clary and Izzy are animatedly greeting everyone as I study each person like I haven't seen them in four years… oh wait…

Standing in front of me is the whole gang—my best friend of practically all of my twenty-three years, Alec, Izzy's older brother, stands hand in hand with Magnus Bane, his boyfriend since our sophomore year of high school, who is just as glittery and colorful as ever. That guy—Jordan?—is standing with his arm around a shorter woman who looked about our age, with chocolate brown skin and curled brown hair. I can only assume that this is his fiancée like Clary mentioned earlier. And then my eyes slide over to Simon Lewis. Or is it even him? In high school, Simon was pale and tall—so tall, as to be almost lanky—with thin limbs, a mop of curly brown hair and a thick pair of glasses. He was always wearing some sort of tee-shirt with a "witty" saying on it with faded jeans and his beat-up, black Chuck Taylors.

The man standing in front of me is slightly less pale, but has neatly cut and styled brown curls and is sans glasses. He is wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans, a white V-neck tee-shirt under a black blazer and a pair of _brand new, _blood red Chucks. _Is it just me, or does he look slightly in shape too?_ This cannot be Simon Lewis.

Suddenly Isabelle is whisking the girls away to her bedroom to get ready and I call a quick "nice to meet you" to Jordan's fiancée before she and Clary disappear with Izzy to get ready. I immediately make my way to Alec and we "bro-hug".

"Hey, man!" I say with a huge smile on my face.

"Long time, no see, Wayland," Alec replies, mirroring my grin. "How's L.A. been treating you?"

"It's been great, but I'm actually moving back to New York," I say. "I missed my city," I finish fondly.

"Well, I'm going to go help the girls," Magnus says crossing the room to me. "Jace," he continues pulling me into a quick hug, I hug back, missing my Mags, "it's great to see you again." And with that, he disappears into Isabelle's bedroom as well.

"Jace," Simon says, "bro-hugging" me. "It's great to see you again."

"You to, rat boy," I say, using my old nickname for him. "Although I'm not sure I'm even looking at the same person." He chuckles shaking my hand before plopping down on the couch next to where Alec is now seated.

"And you must be Jordan," I say turning to the last man standing. I extend my hand. "I'm Jace Wayland, Alec's best friend." I nod to the raven haired boy on the sofa. Jordan shakes my hand firmly a chuckles a little.

"Yeah," he says amusedly, "I know who you are. I've seen you do some stuff on television." I smile and shake my head. "It's nice to meet you, man." He makes his way over to the empty couch and directs his attention to the flat screen—Alec and Simon have put on reruns of _How I Met Your Mother_. Realizing I'm to only one not changed for the club, I excuse myself and make my way to the guest room that I'm occupying while I'm searching for my own apartment.

I rummage through the assortment of boxes and duffle bags I brought with me from California in search of something to wear. I finally find something suitable and change into a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark grey, cotton V-neck tee-shirt. I pull on my trusty black leather jacket and lace up a pair of combat boots. I spray on some cologne and survey myself in the mirror hanging above the dresser. _Damn I look good—I just hope Clary likes it… SHIT! SNAP OUT OF IT JACE! YOU ARE SO WHIPPED! _Deeming myself worthy of public appearance, I saunter back into the living room just in time for Iz to pop her head around the corner peering at us guys with excitement.

"Just wait until you see us, boys," she says, a mischievous grin stretching across her porcelain face. "You are going to _drop dead._"

**A/N: So, guys, there's another chapter... and I know I said that I thought this chapter was going to be the club scene, but it didn't really go as planned. Sorry! Don't hate me! But obviously next chapter is going to be the club- I promise :) Okay, don't forget to review and I think that's all!**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**CPoV:**

I still have a smile on my face from seeing Magnus, Alec and Simon again. I feel like it's been too long since we've all gotten together, and now it should be even more fun because we've added Jordan and Maia to the group. My thoughts flick momentarily back to earlier today, when Jace and I passed Jordan in the lobby. I can't shake the look on his face from my mind… it was a swirling combination of anger and protectiveness and… jealousy? But what would _Jace Wayland_ be jealous of? He can get any girl he wants in a heartbeat—surely he couldn't have thought Jordan was flirting with me… and if he did, why did he _care?_ And it doesn't matter anyway, because Jordan is so head over heels in love with Maia that it's almost sickening. It just seems so uncharacteristic of Jace to be jealous…_stop, Clary. STOP. _

I'm in Izzy's gigantic (for an apartment) walk-in closet rummaging through her massive collection of clothing with the orders to "find something sexier than what I normally wear" (since shorts and a crop top is about it for me—even when we go out). I can hear the muffled sounds of Izzy and Maia chatting animatedly out in the bedroom and then a faint knock on the door. I poke my head out to find Magnus, as sparkly as ever, sauntering into the room.

"Hello, hello, ladies," he chirps. "I came to offer my assistance." He waves a perfectly manicured hand in the air dramatically.

"Mags!" I call from the closet, suddenly realizing that I am in desperate need of some fashion advice and/or expertise. "I need help!" I plead desperately. He rushes over with a look of sheer determination on his face.

"Sure thing, biscuit," he says following me into the closet. After about ten minutes and a lot of arguing, he finally finds me a dress that isn't able to pass as a shirt. It's still out of my comfort zone though. I look down at the strapless, black lace dress in my hands with apprehension. I've never worn something so tight and short before. When I walk out, I see that Izzy has finished Maia's hair and makeup. Maia's brown hair is pulled into an intricate, sexy up-do. Her lips are painted just a simple nude, but the different shades of blue in her smokey eye shadow match her sleeveless, blue dress perfectly and compliment her gorgeous, five inch, black pumps. I frown, instantly jealous, but then laugh inwardly at my immaturity.

"You look amazing, Maia!" I exclaim, giving her a small hug.

"Okay, Clary!" I hear Isabelle say from behind me. "Go put that dress on and then I'm doing your hair and makeup next." I nod and walk to the small adjoining bathroom to shimmy into the dress Magnus and I picked. As I suspected, it's skin tight and makes it look like I actually _have_ curves. This is a miracle… I am officially naming this dress the Miracle Dress. _I have curves… granted, they're small… but _still. I pad, softly, back into the bedroom and immediately the girls and Magnus gasp. I blink in surprise.

"Oh, Clary!" Mags practically squeals. "I just _knew_ that dress would be perfect on you!" Izzy and Maia nod their heads vigorously in agreement and I laugh at their enthusiasm.

"Okay, Clary, _sit_," Izzy suddenly commands and I make my way to her vanity, sitting down with some effort. My best friend whips out her supplies and soon I'm lost in a swirling cloud of powder and fragrance. After what feels like an hour, the raven haired girl exclaims, "Voila! You're _perfect!_" I slowly creep over to the full length mirror in the corner and gasp.

The girl looking back at me is the definition of mysterious and sexy. She is wearing a skin tight, strapless, black lace dress that stop around mid-thigh. Her waist length, fiery red hair is immaculately curled and looks shiny and voluminous. And her makeup is a combination of a dark, black and grey smokey eye and a blood red lip color, making her emerald eyes shine. _There's no way this is me._

"Who is that?" I whisper.

"That's you, biscuit," Mags replies at my elbow. Upon hearing this shocking news, I whip around and tackle my best friend in a bear hug. She hugs back, just as tight.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, _thank you!_" I squeal and Izzy laughs.

"Anything for my favorite red head!" She quickly changes into her own dress—a skin tight, hot pink number that ends mid-thigh and has three rectangular cutouts in the back—and applies her own makeup before Magnus styles her hair in true Magnus fashion. She pulls on a pair of black, seven inch stilettoes, looking perfect as always. She hands me a pair of black suede, seven inch wedges and I just look at them in utter shock.

"Um, Iz?" I say apprehensively. She turn to me with a questioning look. "If I wear these, I'll probably fall and break my neck. God knows I'm about as graceful as a baby deer."

"Aw, come on Clary!" she says. "Please wear them?"

"No, I'll probably end up smashing my face in," I reply stubbornly. Then she does it. She makes her puppy dog face. She looks at me with her big brown eyes through her lashes, newly painted with mascara, and pouts her bright pink lips.

"Please," she pleads.

"No," I say with a little less resolve. Izzy bats her eyelashes.

"Pleeeease. It's my _birthday._" I close my eyes and give a big sigh. I open my eyes to see Izzy, Magnus and even Maia's hopeful faces.

"Fiiine." I drag the word out dramatically. The girls and Magnus squeal as I slip on the wedges. I have to admit, though, it feels good to be tall… even though I'm _still_ several inches shorter than everyone else (yes I really am that small).

"Damn, Clary!" Magnus whistles. "Wait until Jace sees you." I scoff trying to hide the blush rushing to my cheeks. Maia and Izzy chuckle and I blush even more.

"Okay!" Isabelle exclaims suddenly. "I'm going to go tell the boys we're ready."

"Why can't we just go out now?" I ask, curious as to why the introduction is necessary.

"Well, we've got to make a _huge_ entrance!" My raven haired best friend says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. She runs out the door quickly and then comes back and shoves us all out the door. Iz and Maia strut out in total confidence, but seeing as I can barely walk… yeah I'm taking it slow. In my effort to make sure I don't trip, my hair cascades around my face, masking it from everyone in the room. I can hear exclaimed compliments from the boys to Isabelle and Maia, but when I finally look up and push my hair back, I notice one other person who isn't contributing to all the hubbub—and he's staring at me with wide golden eyes.

**JPoV:**

Izzy disappears after she makes her announcement and then struts out again, this time accompanied by Maia, Magnus and… _Clary?_ She's wearing a skin tight, short, black lace dress and _seven inch heels?_ Her beautiful fiery hair is curled immaculately and swishes around her waist, hiding her face. If it weren't for the sheer fact that she's putting all her energy into trying not to fall flat on her face, I'm not sure I would have known it's actually Clary.

I don't realize I'm staring until green connects with gold in a head on collision. Around us, the gang is erupting with chatter—compliments, excitement, jokes—but all I can see is the gorgeous red-head in front of me. I cough nervously and rake a hand through my hair, starting forward.

"You look…" I begin, but trail off searching for words. "You look absolutely stunning, Clary." She bites her lip in that adorable way she always does when she gets nervous or embarrassed.

"Thanks, Goldilocks," she retorts making me grin, "you don't look half bad yourself." I can tell she's trying to keep cool, but the fierce blush that's sweeping over her fair skin is saying otherwise.

"You really want to start this tonight, Clary, love?" I ask, stepping close and closer (and hating the fact that I don't tower over her as much while she's wearing those heels). She smirks up at me.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, Wayland," she says, taking a step forward. My grin stretches wider at her feistiness.

"Oh, is that so, Clare-bear?" I ask raising an eyebrow, making her scowl. I take another step forward. She narrows her emerald eyes.

"Oh, you did _not_ just go there," she says in a low voice. She steps forward again—now we're so close that our noses are practically touching and I can smell her strawberry scent again.

"Oh, but I di—" my retort is cut short by a slow chant that breaks out from the group that I complete forgot was there.

"Kiiisss… her… kiiisss… her…" I smirk down at Clary whose eyes have flown wide, though she hasn't moved an inch.

"What do you say, love?" I ask huskily. She makes an indignant and shoves lightly on my chest.

"In your _dreams_, Wayland!" she shouts, seemingly annoyed, but her adorable blush is back. _Yes…_ I want to say desperately. Instead I just turn to address the peanut gallery.

"Care to explain?" I ask dryly.

"Ooooh, _PLEASE!_" Isabelle practically shouts, but not unkindly. "You can practically _feel_ the sexual tension when you two are together." Everyone is nodding in agreement, even Jordan and Maia, who—may I remind you—have both only just met me a few minutes ago.

"Oh, my God, I know," Magnus says flinging his hand dramatically. "Just kiss and admit your undying love already!"

"You guys!" Clary exclaims, eyes wide. "S-shouldn't we get going anyway?" she asks trying to divert the attention from herself, an old habit that I can't help but remember I most likely started, what with all my immature teasing… _stupid, Jace! Stupid._

"Yeah!" Izzy exclaims, excitedly jumping up and down—well as much as one can in seven inch heels. "The limo is waiting outside!"

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~ **

We pile into the sleek, black stretch limousine and take our seats on the plush leather seating. I hesitantly sit next to Clary, but she just turns and gives me a small smile, successfully melting my insides and relaxing me at the same time.

Alec, surprisingly, opens the bottle of champagne manages to hit me square in the chest with the cork. Everyone crack up as I sit there and rub what is sure to be a red mark soon. We pass the bottle around and fill up our champagne flutes and then the toasts begin.

Alec goes first. "Iz, I honestly can't believe that you're twenty-two," he says with that older brother fondness. "And I'm extremely grateful… that you're redoing you birthday party, since your twenty-first was spent with your head down a toilet!" We crack up. I remember that night… those are some nasty mental images… "But, seriously, Isabelle, I love you and I'm proud to be you older brother."

"Awwwww!" the whole group exclaims—the guys, mocking, the girls, actually touched. Each person fires off a small speech about how much they love Izzy and soon my turn passes and the last person to speak is Clary.

"Isabelle Sofia Lightwood," she starts. "You're twenty-two—finally decided to catch up with me have you?" This elicits some chuckles. "Another year to add to the list, babe," she says and winks. Izzy winks back. "Another _amazing, magnificent _year, because that is what you make my life. Amazing and magnificent. Through all these years, you have listened to me and I have listened to you and we've made each other stronger. I honestly don't know what I would do without you in my life and I am so, _so_ grateful that I have you after all this time." Clary's eyes shine with tears and so do Isabelle's. "I would say that you are the most amazing best friend a girl could ever ask for, but I can't—it wouldn't be true… because the truth is… you aren't my best friend, you are _so much more_ than that and I love you to the ends of the earth. So here's to Isabelle," she says lifting her glass, "my sister." Tears are freely running down the two girls' faces as the rest of us raise our glasses.

"To Isabelle!" we exclaim and I take a sip of the bubbly.

**CPoV:**

I'm sitting at the bar drinking a tumbler of Jack Daniels, wincing slightly as it burns a trail down my throat. I spot Izzy dancing with Simon on the dance floor and smile automatically—they would make a cute couple.

The pounding music courses through my body and the flashing lights shatter the movements of the bodies on the dance floor, giving the scene a dreamlike feel. Suddenly I hear an annoying, high pitched giggle cut through the white noise, followed by an equally annoying nasally voice.

"You're Jace Wayland, right?" My head snaps up at the sound of his name and sure enough, a few feet away, Jace is leaning against the bar counter adorned by a tall, stick thin and _extremely_… enhanced (if you know what I mean) blonde. They don't seem to notice me watching them. She has an immaculately manicured hand resting on his chest and is unnecessarily leaning over, giving him an exceptional view of what her tight, low cut shirt is displaying.

I roll my eyes at his typical man-whoreish-ness (I use big words because I'm a bestselling novelist), but am met with an unfamiliar tightening of my chest. It's not jealousy… so much as disappointment. _But why are you disappointed?_ I tell myself it's only because I had thought he'd grown from the player he was in high school. Yeah. That's it. I'm just disappointed that he hasn't matured…

But he seems distracted. His tawny gaze is far away, not even focused on the blonde slut in front him, who is practically shoving her boobs in his face. I gag, nauseated and take another sip of my drink. Suddenly he starts reacting to her touch, but not in the way I expected. He gently, but firmly removes her hand from his chest and the bimbo huffs in indignation. I can barely hear what he's saying when he starts talking.

"Look, you seem… really nice," he starts and I smirk as I pick up every one of his tells that says he's lying—his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and the way his usually silky smooth voice wavers just the _slightest_ bit. "But, um, I'm not really in the mood tonight. So you should really just go back to dancing of whatever, I don't want to ruin your fun." I'm straining to listen to her reply, not really sure why I'm so interested in his interactions with this girl.

"I can make you feel better," the blonde purrs, obviously trying to sound seductive, but coming off a little desperate. Without thinking I snort in amusement and their heads snap in my direction. _Uh oh…_

**A/N: Ooookkaayy! There's chapter six! Like I promised they finally made it to the club in this chapter. Next time there might be a bit of a throw down between Clary and that ****_totally _****mysterious blonde girl (who we all know is based off of Kaelie). Hmm... who knows? Oh, right- I do! *laughs evilly* Review please!**

*****I also want to take this time to thank each and every person who has reviewed and favorited my story. I honestly never expected to receive such a positive reaction and it just makes me feel so amazing to think that people out there actually love my writing. I am proud to say that I haven't received a single negative comment so far (yes I read every single one of them) and I'm looking forward reading more! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much! *kisses***

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare ;)**

**Chapter 7**

**CPoV:**

The blonde girl looks murderous—if looks could kill, right? Her unnaturally blue eyes are narrowed and she's looking at me like she's sickened by my very presence. _Well, that's a confidence booster…_

"Is something funny, _bitch?_" she spits. I see something that I can't make out flash in Jace's eyes. _Anger? Protectiveness?_ He moves to stand by me and turns to the girl.

"Don't talk to her like that," he says in a low voice, sounding infinitely dangerous.

Not looking to start anything I just shake my head. "No, it's fine, Jace," I say, "I'm just going to go find Magnus… I have no idea where he disappeared to." But apparently the bimbo was having none of it.

"I asked you a question, you little freak." Her nasally voice fills my ears once again. "_Answer me._" Suddenly I'm filled with anger. Who is she to call me a freak? If that's how she wants to play it, then fine. I look her square in the eyes and take a deep breath.

"You know what?" I bite, "I'm not the one who has to revert to breast implants the size of Texas and dressing like a desperate hooker just to find somebody to whore around with and satisfy my addiction, now am I?" I see fury like flames in her electric blue eyes. She takes a step toward me and I can smell the swirling scent of alcohol and too much perfume rolling off of her in waves.

"Listen, you little _bitch!_ If you think slaying my character is going to get a big celebrity notice a nobody like you, then THINK AGAIN. Jace would _never_ go for someone who looks like you." I blink in shock. I suddenly feel like I'm back in high school staring into the faces of my bullies. I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes and try desperately to force them back. _You will not cry. You will _not_ give her the satisfaction. _"You are _nothing _and nobody will ever love a _freak like you!_" The tears are really threatening to spill over when I feel a strong, muscular arm wrap around my waist.

"You couldn't be more wrong," Jace growls. The other woman just makes an impatient noise.

"Fine, if you want to waste your time with that skinny, flat chested bitch, then be my guest. Just don't come crawling back to me when you finally come to your senses." Jace looks at her incredulously.

"I don't even know your _name!_" he exclaims.

"Whatever," the blonde huffs before flipping her hair and walking away. I'm suddenly aware again of Jace's arm around me. I look up at him and he removes it quickly. My thoughts are swirling and the alcohol in my system isn't helping to clear them. Jace had just defended me to that brain-dead whore on the same day he nearly beat the shit out of some creepy stalker for me… twice. What the hell am I? This is all making me look like some weak, defenseless coward rather than the decently confident and tough woman I pride myself on growing into. As I'm taking another sip of my good friend Jack **(A/N: If you don't get it—that's her drink. Jack Daniels)**, I hear Jace clear his throat beside me.

"Uh, Clary?" I turn to him. His swirling, golden eyes are downcast and he's absently pulling on a loose string at the hem of his shirt. He seems…nervous. But Jace Wayland is _never_ nervous.

"Yeah?" I ask, raising both of my eyebrows—since the universe seems intent on not allowing me to raise just one. _All I want is to raise one damn eyebrow, but noooo…_

"Would you maybe want to, um, dance…or something?" he asks looking even more nervous and somewhat hopeful. I find myself smiling subconsciously at how adorable he is when he's flustered. There's a slight tinge of red in his cheeks, made barely noticeable by the colored lights whirling around the vast, densely packed room. I don't know what comes over me—maybe it's the alcohol, or the shock of seeing him after four years on opposite sides of the country—but I do something I never, in a million years, thought I would ever do. I say yes.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

Jace pulls me onto the dance floor, amid the mass of sweaty, gyrating bodies, just a new song is starting. It's some random song that I don't recognize, but the beat pulses through my veins as he spins me around and pulls my back against his chest. His muscular arms snake their way around my waist and I raise my arms up to lock my hands behind his neck. He nuzzles his head into the side of my neck and I swear to God I almost sigh. We sway to the beat of the music and after a few seconds, Jace releases his arms from my waist, only to slide his hands onto my hips. I jump a bit at the gesture, but relax soon enough.

I'm surprised how oddly comforting and natural it feels to be this close to him and I take particular notice in the way we seem to fit so perfectly together. _Like we were made for each other. _I'm growing more and more confused with every passing second. I had always though Jace hated me. Now he comes and says he want to try to be friends. He's protected and defended me multiple times today and all day his very presence made my stomach flutter. Could our friends be right? Do Jace and I have feelings for each other that are unknown to us? I stop moving as I come to a shocking realization. I can't speak for the golden boy, but… I think I like Jace—and might have for a while.

Jace pulls away at my lack of movement and spins me to face him. He looks a cross between confused and worried. "Clary? Are you okay, love?" I smile inwardly at the pet name, hearing it used, for the first time, as a term of endearment rather than in a mocking tone. I find myself looking at him, not necessarily in a new light, but with all the emotions I didn't know I felt for him all these years.

"Yeah, fine," I reply distractedly. Jace smile slightly.

"Good." We part ways, me mumbling something about going back to the bar, Jace saying he wanted to find Alec. My head is spinning and my thoughts sound like a thirteen year old girl who has a crush. _Oh, my God. I like Jace. Does he like me back? No he wouldn't. He couldn't—that Sebastian guy was right. He's so out of my league. I'm definitely not pretty enough for Jace. He deserves better. _I'm becoming more and more nauseous and I feel like I'm suffocating in the thick club air. I need to clear my head. I reach into my clutch and slap down five bucks on the counter making a nearby bartender jump.

"What can I get with this?" I ask the bartender. He chuckles before swiping up the five from the bar-top.

"Well, it's your lucky day, miss," he replies. "It's our new Four for Five Friday. Choose any liquor and we'll give you four shots. Sound good?" I nod greedily. "Alright, got a favorite?"

I contemplate for a minute before I make a decision. "You got any strawberry vodka?" The bartender chuckles again before lining up the glasses and filling each to the brim with strawberry flavored vodka. I smile at the bartender before downing the first shot. The bitterness of the alcohol is paired perfectly with the sweetness of the strawberry flavoring. It burns big time as it slides down my throat. I let out a small cough, and then, almost immediately, I'm onto the next glass. I throw it back and slam the glass down smiling slightly at the intensified flavor of the fruit. By now the scene in front of me is starting to swirl and the flashing lights seem to blur together. But I'm still thinking about Jace. I move on to the next shot wanting desperately to forget about my feelings for him. This time I barely feel a thing as it slides effortlessly down my throat and my head is swimming. _Wait, who was I just thinking about again…?_ Shrugging my shoulders to myself I knock back the last shot and the strawberries just taste _so damn good_ that I let out a giggle at the thought.

The bartender is looking at me amusedly—or at least I think he is… I can't really tell anymore. Everything is just one big blur. I throw my eyes over to the packed mass of dancing bodies again, suddenly wanting to feel the music running through my veins with the alcohol. I try to hop off the bar stool, but really end up sliding off of it drunkenly, wobbling severely as my wedges come in contact with the floor. I stagger through the crowd, grinning stupidly as Jace's face pops into my mind. _Oh, _that's_ who I was thinking about!_ I realize distantly that the shots didn't really accomplish their mission—to make me forget about the golden boy—but as I'm swaying along to the music, laughing to myself every once in a while, I'm just too happy to care.

**A/N: Okay there's chapter seven! Not as big of a confrontation between Clary and the blonde bitch as I had first anticipated (I really hope I didn't let any of you guys down on that front), but when the idea of the flash back to high school for Clary popped into my head, I couldn't resist incorporating it. It was just another way to reference her past with Jace and I thought that was priceless. Anyway... a drunk Clary... I wonder how that's going to turn out! Hehe! I know this chapter was really short so I'll work my hardest to whip up chapter eight for you guys. Next chapter will start in Jace's point of view, but I can't really say if it's going to be the whole thing. **

**And remember- Clary still has to go to lunch with Hodge the next day and I'm proud to say that I thought ahead and am putting a big surprise in that chapter! No hints- sorry! I'm going to let you all go crazy trying to think of what it might be *laughs evilly* Please remember to review- I read each and every one individually and I really appreciate you guys taking the time to do that!**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare. I do not own the X-Men movie series. ;)**

**Chapter 8**

**JPoV:**

I'm watching Clary from the bar with concern. She had just gotten up when I arrived and she looked not just tipsy, but drunk as hell. She's stumbling around in her skyscraper heels and I'm worried she's going to fall and break something. I turn to the bartender nearest to me while still keeping an eye on the red-head.

"Hey," I say getting his attention. I point to Clary on the dance floor and wince as she knocks into a nearby dancer. "You see that red head over there?" I watch his eyes scan the general area.

"Yeah," he replies after a moment. I turn to him.

"Okay, she just left here. Do you know who served her?" I ask becoming increasingly annoyed with whatever jackass put Clary in this state. He laughs, his eyes full of amusement.

"Actually that would be me," he replies still chuckling.

"Ah." I nod. "And, uh, if you just happen to remember… _what the hell did she drink?_" The guy chuckles again.

"Feisty little thing, she is. Came over here slapped a five on the bar-top and ordered four shots, straight up, of strawberry vodka. Downed 'em all like a pro too."

"Shit," I mutter. Suddenly the drunken mess that is Clary starts spinning around and around in place. It's actually quite amusing, watching people throw her weird glances, but otherwise carry on having a good time. And now she's tripping over here, trying her best to dodge people, swerving wildly in the process. Finally she stumbles over only to finally be hit head-on by some asshole.

"Hey Ja—" the guy comes out of nowhere and her small form goes down like a sack of bricks. My eyes fly wide.

"Fuck—Clary!" I lunge forward and reach desperately, sighing in relief when my arms wrap around her slim waist. I look up to see a flash of platinum blonde hair swishing away and suddenly it clicks—that psycho from earlier body slammed my little red-head. _That fucking bitch…_ Meanwhile, Clary is falling apart in a fit of giggles in my arms, despite almost being deliberately knocked on her ass, and soon enough I'm laughing too. I can't get over what an adorable—if somewhat clumsy—drunk she is. I haul her upright and lean her against the bar.

"You alright there, love?" I ask still chuckling. She smiles brightly, but in a flash her expression goes sour.

Confused, I look at her questioningly. "Clary?"

"I'm not feeling so hot…" she mumbles staring at my shoes. _Oh no—not my combats. _ I reach out to grab her arm and steer her away from my shoes.

"_Okay_, come on, let's get you to a bathroom," I say hurriedly, starting to pull her away, but she just grabs at her stomach. _Fuck._

"Too late." And then she doubles over and vomits the alcohol onto my beloved combat boots. The bartenders aren't even fazed—apparently this happens a lot—and one reaches over the counter to hand me a towel, looking a cross between sympathetic and amused. I drag a hand down my face sighing out in defeat. "It tastes like strawberries and Jack," she groans, doubling over again. I'm quick to swipe up her long hair so it doesn't get caught in the line of fire again. Finally she straightens up and lets out a long, shaky breath.

"You okay?" I ask cocking my head to the side a bit.

"I think so. But it's getting late; I think we might need to round everyone up and go. Its…" she trails off checking the time on the screen on that little flip phone she seems to love so much. "Shit! 2:30? And I-I-I have somewhere to go later…" she clamps her eyes shut looking as though she racking her brain to remember. "Damn it! My head hurts so much, I don't remember!"

Just as I'm going to find everyone in the densely packed room, Izzy and Simon come staggering up looking drained, but happy in a sappy (**A/N: sorry that rhymed**) way… _hmm, I'll have to ask him about that later._

"Hey guys," Simon greets. "We should probably get going. It's really late." I chuckle lightly.

"We were just saying the same thing," I say looking at an extremely exhausted Clary. Her normally luminescent green eyes look weary with overtiredness and she has slight bags starting to form, but nevertheless she looks beautiful as always (**A/N: aww! Jace is a big ol' softie!**).

"Is that _vomit_ on your shoes?" Isabelle asks suddenly, successfully breaking me out of my reverie. The little red-head has the decency to look embarrassed and I laugh a humorless laugh, shaking my head, before answering.

"I don't really want to talk about it." Izzy just squints her chocolate brown eyes at me.

"But—" she starts to say, only to be cut off by Clary, her words still slightly slurred.

"He _said_ he doesn't want to talk about it," she says with a nervous laugh. In the next few minutes or so Magnus and Alec and Jordan and Maia all find their way to our little group by the bar, claiming that it's late and we should probably go. We squeeze through the crowd toward the entrance of the club and start filing into the limo. Before Clary climbs in, though, I lean down next to her ear.

"So did this _Jack_ guy treat you badly? Is that why you ate him?" I ask sarcastically. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but I see a small smile tugging at the corners of her blood red lips.

"Do you want me to eat you too?" she asks the remnants of her smile still present. I laugh help the still tipsy red-head into the limo.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

Clary fell asleep on the ride back to her and Izzy's apartment building, as had Maia and Izzy herself. Simon and Jordan had also dozed off in drunken stupors. Magnus didn't look asleep, but he didn't look awake either—in fact, he barely looked alive, clutching Alec's hand as my best friend rubbed circles onto the back of Magnus's hand with his thumb. I smiled, happy for Alec. I remember how hard it was to accept his sexuality. When he came out to all of us in freshman year of high school, he was nervous as hell, but when we finally managed to get it through his thick skull that it wouldn't (and still doesn't) change anything between any of us, he started to become more comfortable with being gay. Then he met Mags in tenth grade and the rest is history.

The ride had been torture for me because Clary felt the need to curl up on the seat of the limo and rest her head in my lap. So while everyone else had been sleeping, I was wide awake trying not to get turned on—sorry, what can I say? Her red curls cascaded over her shoulders onto the seat and my legs making it look like I was on fire. She looks so peaceful sleeping—so innocent and almost childlike, but in the most beautiful way. _Christ, I'm whipped._

Now the limo is pulling up to the sleek, modern building housing the girls'—and mine, temporarily—apartment. Slowly everyone had woken up in the past few minutes except Clary. Damn, that girl could sleep. Isabelle looks at me with a small smirk on her face across the limousine's interior, her hand clasped in Simon's.

"You should probably bring her up," she says nodding to Clary's still sleeping form. I chuckle and lift up the sleeping woman bridal style, stepping out of the limo and following the others into the building. When we reach the girls' apartment, Jordan and Maia say goodbye and sleepily depart to their own apartment down the hall. When the rest of us walk in, Alec and Magnus immediately crash on the sofa in the living room and Simon follows Izzy to her bedroom…_yeah I'll _definitely _have to ask him about that later._

I carry Clary up the stairs to her loft style bedroom—it's actually pretty cool—and lay her gingerly on the bed, cringing at the unmade sheets and pretty much universal mess throughout the room. I'm halfway to the stairs when I hear her voice.

"Jace?" I turn around to see Clary propped up on her elbows her bright green eyes questioning. "You brought me up here?" I nod and she gives a small smile. Suddenly she sits up fully, her long curls swishing behind her. "Are you tired?" she asks out of the blue.

I think back to the limo ride back and how she had laid her head in my lap. No, I most certainly am not tired. "To be perfectly honest, no, not really," I reply.

"To be perfectly honest," she says, "I'm not either anymore. I was, but now I don't feel like I'll be able to go back to sleep."

"You want to watch a movie?" Her eyes light up.

"_X-Men: Origins_?" she asks excitedly. One of our favorites. Now that I think about it, we are freakishly alike, even with the massive amounts of arguments we got into.

"What else?" I ask sarcastically.

"Okay," she says, getting off the bed—still wobbling slightly. "I have to change so get out." I fake looking affronted and hold a hand over my heart.

"That hurts, Clare-bear," I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm. "Right here." I pat the spot over my heart. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Just go grab the DVD. I'm pretty sure it's in the television cabinet downstairs," she says turning towards her dresser. I make my way down the stairs into the main part of the apartment and then to the living room. Being careful not to wake Alec and Magnus—who are currently wrapped in each other's arms on the sectional (It's cute, albeit a little sickening)—I start sorting through the girls' DVD collection in the cabinet that supported the flat screen. I saw the title I grabbed it and made my way back to Clary's bedroom.

Clary's changed out of the dress she was in and into an oversized NYU sweatshirt and a pair of _extremely_ short sport shorts that are kind of making it hard for me to focus. _Damn those shorts show a lot of leg…_ she's also cleaned the makeup off of her face, but looks just as beautiful. She grabs her MacBook computer off of a chair in the corner—from underneath a pile of clothes, I might add, making me cringe—and we settle on her bed under the sheets with the laptop in front of us and the lights off. I slide the DVD into the slot and the movie starts playing.

Halfway through the movie, the little red-head lets out a huge yawn, visibly slumping against the head board. I shake my head at her, a small smile tugging on my lips.

"Go to sleep, love. You know you want to," I say, but she shakes her head.

"But the movie," she mumbles. I reach out and shut the laptop, effectively cutting the film short.

"Forget the movie, you need sleep," I insist, placing the computer on the nightstand. She mutters something incoherent and lays back in the bed curling into the blankets. I get up to leave, but her hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. I pause, surprised.

"You don't have to go," she whispers almost inaudibly. My breath catches and I nod slowly before shedding my pants and shirt—it's not what you think, I always sleep in just my boxers—and climb under the covers next to her. Before I can object, she curls into my side with her back to me and I find myself snaking an arm around her waist.

My last coherent thought before I succumb to my drowsiness, is that I'm falling asleep with the most beautiful woman in my arms.

**A/N: Awww! Isn't Jace just the biggest softie? So anyway there's chapter eight. Sorry I updated a lot later than usual- and if it wasn't then it felt a lot longer than usual. And I've hit 100 followers! I can't believe it! Thank you guys so much for all of the support for this story! It really IS unbelievable. Next chapter is Clary's lunch meeting with Hodge... and that means you find out that little surprise I've been leaving you all to figure out for yourselves! Don't forget to review and favorite!**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**CPoV:**

I wake up due to an incessant pounding in my skull. Cracking an eye open I look down to see a golden arm wrapped tightly around my waist. I start and hastily turn around meeting a pair of swirling golden eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine," Jace says sarcastically, and I wince.

"Not so loud," I whine. He chuckles and sits up looking down at me with an amused expression.

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." He gives me a smirk and my insides squirm. I'm brought back to Earth by that pounding in my head again—right behind my eyes. _How much did I drink last night?_ All I remember is watching a movie with Jace when we got home and—surprisingly—asking him to stay.

"Only because _you_ took the right side," I retort halfheartedly, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and grabbing my phone. _11:30. I have to meet Hodge in an hour._

"You don't seem all that surprised to find me in your bed this morning, my dearest Clarissa," Jace muses behind me.

I hum in thought and turn to face him, my every move making it feel like someone is dragging a knife between my eyes. "Well, I remember everything from watching the movie to…" I trail off not wanting to admit out loud that I had asked Jace to sleep with me.

"From watching the movie to… what?" Jace repeats raising a solitary eyebrow, smirk firmly in place. My head is spinning and I'm not so sure it's entirely from the hangover. I mean here is Jace Wayland—the man I thought I hated, but am only _now_ realizing how much I actually like—sitting half naked in my bed. _Wait…HALF NAKED?! How did I not notice this before?_

I look again and it's true. Jace is sitting in my bed, with the covers thrown back, in only his boxers, biceps flexing as he supports himself on his elbows, perfectly sculpted abs rippling… His underwear is a pair of pink Ralph Lauren's with a navy waistband. The color makes his tan skin appear even darker and the little trail of fine, golden hair going from his flat, toned stomach down beneath the band of his shorts more defined… I blush furiously, spluttering.

"I-it doesn't matter what I remember after that, the important thing is that I don't remember what I did before," I insist. "I don't even remember what I had to _drink_ let alone remember if I did anything illegal or humiliating. And my head hurts and you're annoying and I'm not feeling so hot," I whine as I'm hit with a serious wave of nausea. He chuckles and swings his legs over the side of my bed.

"Funny, that's exactly what you said to me last night at the club, right before you threw up on my combat boots." I groan and bury my face in my hands, mortified.

"Oh, my God, I did?" I moan. "I'm so sorry. I can buy you a new pair of shoes. I know how much you loved those. God, Jace, I'm so embarrassed—"

"Clare-bear, come on, it's okay," he cuts me off. "I mean, don't get me wrong—a new pair of shoes would be greatly appreciated," he pauses to smirk, "But you don't have to be embarrassed. I've had my fair share of nausea when it comes to alcohol… although it takes a_ little_ bit more to get me _that_ drunk," he finishes with a devilish glint in his eye. I cock my head to the side, causing a spike of pain to course through it.

"Are you calling me a lightweight, Wayland?" I ask in as menacing a voice I can muster with the degree of my hangover.

"Yes," Jace replies without missing a beat. "Now, what do you usually do for a hangover cure?" he asks, leading the way downstairs. I follow him to his guest room and watch as he slips on a pair of thick, grey sweatpants.

"Um, usually some pain killers and coffee," I say walking into the kitchen. The golden boy turns to me with a mock scolding expression.

"Tsk, tsk, Clarissa, everyone knows that you need electrolytes for a hangover," he informs me as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. _Well, it obviously isn't, since I didn't know that._ "Lucky for you, love, I do believe I saw some Gatorade in the fridge." He pulls open the stainless steel door and produces a small bottle of red Gatorade and grabs the bottle of pain killers from the cabinet.

"But my _coffee_," I whine indignantly. There is _no _way that boy is going to deprive me of my morning coffee. He slides two tablets into my palm and hands me the bottle, chuckling.

"You'll have you coffee in a second, first just drink this." I nod and follow his orders taking a few sips of the Gatorade and then rushing to fix my coffee. I take a Starbucks K-Cup (just regular, caffeinated coffee) from the rack on the counter and pop it into our sleek black Keurig. I slide my travel mug under the opening and press brew, rushing back upstairs to pick out an outfit leaving Jace to do… whatever it is that he does when no one's around.

I shower quickly and check the weather on my laptop. Since it's going to be a particularly cold April Saturday, I change into a pair of thick, black tights and pair of white lace shorts and a thick, black, oversized knit sweater and lace up my favorite pair of blood red, patent finish Dr. Marten's boots. I brush my teeth, swipe on some mascara and Chap Stick, and leave my still drying hair down so it falls over my shoulders. Finally I swipe my computer, phone and wallet into my trusty messenger bag and bound back into the main part of the apartment. I rush back into the kitchen, where everyone is now congregated, and Jace is… cooking pancakes? _Huh… _At the sight of him still shirtless I flush lightly.

"Morning, Clary," Izzy chirps. "Sleep well?" she asks, waggling her eyebrows with a smirk that Magnus mimics. She looks stunning as always—even after _hours_ of partying. Simon, Alec and Mags all greet me with various forms of 'good morning'. I make a face at my best friend

"_Ha ha_, Izzy," I say dryly. I'm in too much of a rush to even acknowledge the fact that she just made an indirect remark about me falling asleep with Jace. How she even knows that—we may never know. "Morning, guys. Sorry, I have to run. I've got a meeting with my publicist, but I'll catch you later?" I ask, grabbing travel mug I left to fill up and twisting the top onto it, satisfied with how long I let it cool.

"It's totally fine, babe," my best friend says from across the island with a smile. "Tell Hodge I said 'hi'."

"Will do," I reply turning to leave.

"Um, Clare-bear?" Jace calls from the stove. I turn with questioning eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You forgot the cream and sugar, love. Are you sure you want your coffee just black?" I smirk and take a sip.

"I like my coffee black," I reply and, after a pause, add, "Like my soul," winking an emerald eye at him. Isabelle gives a chuckle, knowing full well of my obsession with black coffee.

"And apparently your clothes, too," Jace replies raking his eyes over my body. I shiver under his gaze and I hope to God nobody notices it. I roll my eyes at the man, thinking about his almost _entirely_ black wardrobe.

"You're one to talk," I retort. "See you later, guys," I say to the rest of the group and with a salute, I walk out the kitchen door. I grab my keys from the bowl in the hall and make my way out of our building and to my car.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

I arrive at the restaurant I'm supposed to be meeting Hodge at, a cute little diner called Taki's, and park my beloved BMW convertible in a space near the entrance. When I walk in, I find Hodge sitting at a booth in the corner, in all of his tweed glory. I smile at his antics and make my way over to the table.

We order lunch and make conversation about how absurd Imogen is and how I need to get the first chapter of my new book to my editor, Jia Penhallow. As the conversation goes on, I grow increasing restless to know what Hodge is hiding. He wouldn't plan a whole lunch meeting, just to catch up on my life—he wouldn't _need_ to since he calls me every. Single. Day. No, it has to be something big. I can tell by the burning excitement in his brown eyes, no matter how hard he tries to contain it.

"Hodge, you know I love just talking to you," I say, interrupting a _very_ interesting story about one of his meetings last week, "but I _know_ you're hiding something. Just tell me what it is!" I say with a laugh. He smiles and holds his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, Clary, girl," he says chuckling, "You got me. I was going to wait until we finished our food, but I'll just tell you now. I'm _dying_ to tell you anyway." He smiles wide. I look at him pointedly. I'm growing more and more anxious to know what his surprise is.

"I got a call from Carstairs Production Studios," he pauses for dramatic effect. _Wait… Carstairs Production Studios? That sounds familiar. But it can't be… can it?_ Hodge is now buzzing with energy and give me the biggest smile I've ever seen. "They want to turn _your book_ into _A MOVIE_, Clary!" He practically squeals. I stare wide eyed in shock for a moment until I find my voice.

"Oh, my God," I whisper still unable to process what my publicist just said. "OH. MY. GOD." I break into a smile so big, it's almost painful and jump out of the booth with tears of joy running down my face. Hodge springs up too and wraps me in a tight hug. "What book?"

"_My One and Only_," Hodge replies, referring to the title of my third published book. I'm so excited I can barely think straight. The next five minutes are filled with excited comments about casting and shooting scenes and which parts might have to be cut out and I'm elated on the ride back home.

When I get back I rush immediately to Maia and Jordan's apartment down the hall from mine, wanting to drag them over so I can tell everyone the news at the same time. I bang furiously on the door and Jordan throws it open worry in his hazel eyes. But when he sees my overly large smile the worry turns to confusion.

"Clary, what's up?" Before I can answer I hear Maia's voice somewhere within the apartment.

"Babe?" she calls. "Who's at the door? Why were they banging so loud—oh, hey, Clary," she says upon seeing me. "What's up?"

"Come with me, I have news!" I squeal dragging the now bewildered and laughing couple out the door. I run back toward my apartment door and shove it open hastily.

"Jace? Izzy?" I call loudly.

"Living room!" Iz calls back and I run into the living room with Jordan and Maia close behind. I come in to see that Magnus, Alec and Simon are still here, sprawled on our couches. I'm literally bouncing up and down like a little kid on a sugar high with excitement and everyone is giving me weird looks. I turn to Jordan and Maia.

"Sit," I command, pointing to the only empty section of sofa left. They comply and move to the middle of the room where everyone can see me clearly, still buzzing with energy.

"Clary?" Isabelle asks, cocking her head to the side, "What's going on?" I try my best to make a straight face, but ultimately fail as I realize that I will _never_ be able to stop smiling after this.

"I have news," I say mysteriously, meaning to continue, but only to be cut off by Jace. _Of course._

"We kind of figured Clary. Now will you just tell us what the hell it is?" he asks shaking his head and chuckling. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.

"Carstairs Production Studios is turning my book into a _MOVIE!_" My voice goes up about two octaves by the end of my statement. I throw my eyes open to find seven shocked faces staring back at me. And then, all at once, chaos ensues. Izzy, Maia, and Mags scream and spring up to tackle me in a hug, followed by Jace, Alec and Jordan, who are all laughing hysterically and smiling like crazy. Alec wraps me in a hug and Jordan grabs me underneath my arms and swings me around like a little child—you know because I'm so freakishly small— making me give a shout of surprise. When he stops he sets me on Jace's shoulders. We're all laughing and shouting and our neighbors probably think we're crazy.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

We calmed down after a while—and a few glasses of celebratory champagne. I'm lying in bed now, trying desperately to fall asleep with the faint buzz of excitement still running through my veins. We're shooting the movie in Martha's Vineyard, where I had actually set the book, and I'm leaving in a week to oversee the production.

Apparently Hodge had been taking care of everything behind my back for the past few months so all of the planning was finished. Now all we have to do is hold auditions in Martha's Vineyard for the characters and then we start shooting. **(A/N: I know this isn't really how making movies works, but it works better for the context of the story.)** I'm broken out of my reverie by a soft knocking on the wall just to the left of the landing of the staircase that leads up here. I sleepily open my eyes and see Jace silhouetted against a faint light coming from downstairs.

"Jace?" He moves closer and perches himself on the edge of my bed looking at me apprehensively. I sit up, wanting to know what this is about.

"First off, Clare-bear, I just want to say that I'm really happy for you and extremely, _extremely_ proud," he says with a slight smile. I smile back, his words melting my heart. "I'm going to audition, and it would mean a lot to me to get the male lead. This could be my first big time movie, Clary. Could you maybe… you know…" I already know what he's going to ask. I smile warmly.

"Of course I'll put in a good word with you to the producers," I insist. His smile grows wide; he looks like a kid on Christmas morning. "But to be honest, you're a great actor. There isn't a doubt in my mind that you would get that part even without my help." Jace looks incredulous.

"You really mean that?" he asks.

"Yeah," I reply simply. He just looks at me for a moment. And then he leans forward and kisses my cheek gently, but firmly. The effect is instantaneous. I shiver at the spark of electricity that his touch produces and feel myself blush as he pulls back. _Thank the sweet baby Jesus that it's dark._

"Thank you, Clary," he says sincerely. And then gets up to leave. My stomach twists as he walks away, but then he turns back. "And I've read all your books. Got hell from my buddies back in L.A. for reading chick books, but they were exceptional," he says with a smirk, barely visible in the dim light. And then he disappears down the stairs.

I lie back down and I'm finally hit with drowsiness. As I'm falling asleep, despite the elation in my heart from the day's events, I can't help but feel a sort of sharp sadness at the thought of not falling asleep next to Jace again tonight.

**A/N: And there's chapter nine! I hope you guys liked it! This one was updated so much faster than chapter eight so I know you'll all appreciate that. Clary's book is being turned into a MOVIE! Yay! That's the big surprise and I have big things planned for the filming (specifically the end) so I hope you all enjoy! Don't forget to review! It makes me very happy. See? :D :D :D**

**Disclaimer #1: ****_The Mortal Instruments_**** and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare, I do not own anything.**

**Disclaimer #2: I do not own ****_My One and Only._**** It is a fantastic book written by a woman named Kristan Higgins. No, she did not pay me or even ask me to say that, but she DOES happen to be a very close family friend and her son is one of my best friends. I've known her since birth and she is an amazing woman and author. If you like light-hearted, funny, witty romance novels, then you should check out some of her books!**

**Okay, I think that's all. Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**JPoV:**

I'm kicking myself right now. Literally kicking myself. In the head. Repeatedly. With spiked boots.

God how can I be so _STUPID. _How could I just kiss her and then walk away. Doing it, literally, made me want to throw up, but I have to be away from her. Why, you ask? Well, I'm afraid. Yup. Go ahead and laugh your ass off. Jonathan Christopher Wayland is afraid. I want to tell Clary _so desperately _how I feel about her. I just wish I knew if she feels the same way.

I need to clear my head. There's a pounding against my skull that I need to relieve and I turn to the best remedy I can think of. Piano. Not many people know that I play piano. I like to keep it to myself mostly. It's practically the only thing that the press doesn't know about me. I run the list of people who know I play, in my head: Alec and Izzy, since they are practically like my brother and sister, and… Clary. Right, I forgot, she walked in on me messing around on the shabby piano in the music room of our old high school.

I cross my bedroom and run my fingers lightly over the keys of my sleek, black Yamaha keyboard. It's definitely not as nice as the beautiful black grand piano that I left behind in L.A., but it will have to do. I turn the keyboard on and plug in my headphones so no one will hear me playing and then I close my eyes and begin to play. I let my fingers glide swiftly over the keys letting the melody fill my ears. I feel my headache start to lessen I smile slightly as I lose myself in the music.

**CPoV:**

That bought of drowsiness doesn't last long. I know it's stupid, but just that one night made me so comfortable with Jace's body next to mine that I can't fall asleep anymore. I know, I know. It was one night. But it felt natural and comfortable and I'm aching to feel his arms around me again. I toss and turn and eventually heave out a huge sigh and throw the covers back. I shiver slightly as the cool air comes in contact with my bare legs—my short sport shorts doing nothing to keep them warm. I try to burrow further into the thick NYU hoodie I'm wearing—one of many I might add—and ultimately failing, I settle for rubbing my hands up and down my arms quickly to try and warm them up.

I make my way slowly down the stairs and start toward the kitchen, but a faint light catches my eye. A light coming from Jace's bedroom… I silently walk towards it and find the golden boy, illuminated by a small desk lamp, playing the piano. I know for a fact that he doesn't do it often, especially not while other people are around. He looks completely comfortable, his long, slim fingers flying over the keys. I can't hear a single note—I chalk that up to the large pair of headphones he's wearing—but I know that whatever it is, it sounds beautiful.

I've only heard Jace play the piano once and I was absolutely astonished by how natural he looked playing. Leaning against the door frame, I just watch him. His eyes are closed and a small smile is present on his full, pink lips. His shoulders are totally tension-free, his biceps rippling slightly as his hands fly back and forth, crossing over each other in perfect coordination. In this moment, he looks at peace. He looks purely Jace. And I smile.

**JPoV:**

I'm starting on my second song, playing something from Bach, and I crack my eyes open for not even a millisecond when a flash of fire stops me in my tracks. I lift my hands up abruptly and pull the headphones off my ears, turning to look at her. She seems startled by my suddenness.

"Hey," I say and she frowns.

"Jace, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I was just kind of passing and I saw your light on—"

"It's fine, Clare," I laugh. She lets out a sigh of relief. "What are you doing up?" I ask. I thought she'd be asleep by now.

"Couldn't sleep," she replies simply, climbing onto my bed and pulling her knees underneath her chin. "What about you?"

"Couldn't sleep," I say, mimicking her words. She nods slightly, resting her head on top of her knees, and wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Have you really read my books?" the little red-head asks turning her emerald eyes on me skeptically. I chuckle breathlessly as I remember some of my friends back in California giving me crap about reading Clary's books because they were 'chick literature' or some shit like that. I remember telling them to fuck off because she happened to be a close friend of mine. _Friend…_

"Of course, Clary," I reply sincerely. She ducks her head down but not before I catch a wide smile stretching across her face. I think I also detect a faint blush on her cheeks. "They were amazing," I add making her look up and roll her emerald green eyes at me, a faint smile still present.

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, huffing out a small laugh. "I've seen everything—every show, every movie—you've ever appeared in, no matter how small the part," she says matter-of-factly, surprising me. I didn't think she had seen everything… I move to sit next to her on the bed, the plush mattress sinking underneath my weight. We're so close that I can smell her strawberry scent again and am immediately filled with warmth that floods my entire body. We sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, just enjoying each other's presence.

"You know I really _did_ miss you, Jace?" Clary asks out of nowhere making me jump. I turn to look at her and decide to poke some fun. I arch a golden eyebrow and put on one of my famous smirks.

"Who wouldn't, Clare-bear?" I ask pompously and she scoffs and smacks me in the arm.

"I mean it," she insists.

"Seriously, Clary, I know. I mean, who could forget this face?" I ask making a gesture to my head. She makes an impatient noise and smacks my arm again.

"Jace! I'm being serious," she says much quieter. For some reason, that gets my attention and I turn to fully face her, leaning my head to the side a little. "I think about that day all the time…the day you left. I remember telling you and everyone else that I was happy to see you go. Th-that I wouldn't miss you." She pauses and I catch a silent tear rolling down her cheek. Without thinking, I reach out and swipe it away with my thumb, looking down at her intently. "And then you left…and I felt…" she trails off looking for her words, "Hollow. Like a part of me was somewhere else and I tried to tell myself that it was nothing. It couldn't be you because you…hated me."

My eyes widen momentarily and my hand shoots out to grab one of hers—releasing it from her grip on her thin legs. I lace our fingers together and she gives me a look of such confusion that I find myself needing to tell her everything. So I start.

CPoV:

"I never hated you, Clary," Jace says in all seriousness. I pretty much gape at him. The pressure of his hand in mine is enough to drive me crazy.

"B-b-but," I stutter, "You—you made my life hell. You teased me mercilessly every day for years—"

"I loved you, Clarissa. I just didn't know how to deal with the emotions…so I said the first thing that came into my mind," he says. _Ohh, I remember._

"_Carrot_," I snort. He snorts in reply, then looks back at me intently.

"I loved you, Carrot," he says quietly. "I still do… if you'll have me." I don't even hesitate in my reply, thinking about all the new feelings that I've just discovered for the man sitting in front of me and how genuine and strong they feel. How right.

"I love you, too, Jace. Of course I'll have you," I say with absolute finality. Shock passes over Jace's handsome features.

"R-really?" He asks in disbelief. I give a small smile and nod slightly, looking up into his swirling, mesmerizing, golden eyes, which seem overcome with happiness at the moment.

Faster than I can process, Jace crushes his lips on my own with the desperation and longing of years of feelings locked away. I respond immediately, untangling our intertwined hands, only to tangle _both_ of mine in his silky curls. He moves his strong hands to my waist and pulls me into his lap. Our lips move together in perfect synchronization and his are so soft…

I feel his tongue trace my bottom lip and I gasp into the kiss giving him the opportunity to explore my mouth. Our tongues swirl together deliciously and can't think straight at all. His hands can't seem to stop moving either and it's driving me crazy in the best possible way. He runs them down my sides and legs and then makes his way back up and then tangles them in my hair and then caresses my face and then he moves them back to my waist. Far, far, _far_ too soon, I feel myself running out of air and I want to scream at my lungs for not being stronger. Apparently he feels it too because we pull back at the same time.

Jace rests his forehead against mine and stares into the very depths of my eyes. I'm staring back—green on gold. We're both panting slightly with giant goofy smiles plastered on our faces. After a moment, he leans forward and kisses my nose. I huff out a laugh and blush profusely, despite the heated situation we were both just in.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he whispers. We crawl into his bed and I'm finally starting to feel a heavy drowsiness. Jace tucks my small frame against his sculpted chest and sigh in contentment as he places a small kiss on my forehead.

"Good night, Clary, love," Jace whispers into my neck.

"Good night, Jace," I reply. With his arms around me, I'm finally able to relax as I sink into the comfortable feeling of his touch. It's not long before I'm slip into one of the deepest sleeps I've ever had.

**A/N: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! It's CLACE! Finally! Ahhh! Okay so that was chapter ten and I hope you all enjoyed it! Big plans for the movie... muahahahaha! I feel like I took a really long time to write that chapter... if you guys felt that too then I'm really sorry :( Don't forget to reviewwww! It makes me happy! :D Okay I think that's it!**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**

**p.s. If anyone has either heard of Kristan Higgins or has read any of her books tell me in a review! I just want to know in anybody knows her!**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare ;)**

**JPoV:**

I open my eyes and am met with one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. Clary is sound asleep in my arms, her breathing deep and calm, her face peaceful. I remember the events of last night and a broad smile stretches across my face.

Clary's my girlfriend. After all these years. I don't think I could be happier right now. I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead wanting to remember this moment forever. Her eyelids flutter open and I'm soon looking at her deep emerald eyes. She smiles and my chest tightens.

"Morning," she mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. I chuckle and bend to kiss her nose. She sighs and smiles again.

"Morning, love," I reply. "What do you want to do today?" I ask, pushing a strand of flaming hair behind her ear.

"Sleeeep," the little red-head groans and I chuckle again. "I just want to get back on my schedule of sleeping until noon, but you people seem to be insistent on waking up at the crack of dawn," she grumbles, closing her eyes and turning away from me, pulling a great deal of the sheets off of me in the process. I can _feel_ her smirking. I can feel it like her actions are tied with mine. I roll my eyes at her laziness.

"Clare-bear, it's 9:30, love," I say glancing over at the clock on the nightstand. "I would hardly consider this 'the crack of dawn.'" I mimic her whiny morning voice and she turns back around to glare at me making me snort. "Still not a morning person, I see. I swear you haven't changed a bit since high school, my dear Clarissa," I muse. Clary just smacks me on the chest.

"And you're still a douche, I see," she retorts halfheartedly. "I just want to sleep," she repeats stubbornly. Yup. No change.

"Baby, we should really get up," I reason.

"Baby?" my overly critical girlfriend questions, ignoring the second part of what I just said and causing me to roll my eyes for the umpteenth time this morning. I lean over having a pretty good idea of what will wake her up.

"Besides, I have something else in mind that we could do later," I whisper huskily in her ear, kissing the shell of it lightly. A sly smile stretches across my face as I feel her shudder underneath me.

"Oh yeah?" she breathes.

"Yeah," I reply, rolling off of her abruptly. Clary frowns instantly, an adorable crease forming right between her eyebrows. Then she sighs and lies back down.

"A few more minutes?" she asks sweetly and I cave with another eye roll. I lie back down and wrap my arms around her again, smiling like a madman as she gives a small sigh. Soon I hear footsteps in the hallway and Izzy's voice approaching.

"Jace? Have you seen Clar—what the hell?!" She exclaims and our heads snap up. Isabelle looks so ecstatic that her head might explode at any second. _Uh oh._ I know what's coming. Apparently, so does Clary because she reaches her hands up and covers my ears at the exact same time as I reach out to cover hers. Even with our ears covered, the raven-haired girl is so loud we can still hear her.

"_FINALLY!_" she squeals at the top of her lungs and my little red-head laughs, shaking her head. Izzy is still squealing and rambling about how we finally realized our feelings for each other and that she was right all along and on and on. Clary and I uncover our ears and turn amused expressions to her best friend who is currently freaking out. I drag a groaning red-head out of bed and press a kiss to her temple. "When the _hell_ did this happen?" Isabelle interrogates, sounding breathless.

"Um, last night, Izzy," Clary explains. I sigh as Izzy squeals again and walks out of the room ranting about weddings and babies. Clary is about to follow her, but before she can leave I grab her around the waist and pull her flush against me, capturing her lips with mine. She lays her small hands against my chest and kisses back briefly before we both pull away.

"I love you," she whispers with absolute certainty. The sound of it immediately turns my insides to dust. I am so far gone for this woman that it's not even funny.

"I love you too," I reply matching her conviction. "So, so much, angel." She flushes deeply, matching her hair, and gives me a light peck, before turning and hurrying off after Izzy to make sure she hasn't already started planning our wedding ceremony.

**CPoV:**

I follow Izzy out of Jace's bedroom, my head still whirling with the events of last night and this morning. Jace is my boyfriend. He loves me and I love him. So, _so_ much. I realize that now. Izzy is still buzzing with excitement and going on and on about weddings and…_babies!_

"Oh, my GOD! Your babies are going to _so_ _ADORABLE!_" she squeals and I let out a short, surprised laugh. "God, Clary, everyone's been waiting for this day for _years!_ I called it first, you know," she states matter-of-factly. I just roll my eyes. Typical Izzy. "Come to think of it…" she says thoughtfully, "Mags owes me twenty bucks!" I gawk at my best friend.

"You guys _bet _on my love life?" I ask incredulously. She just nods, her jet black hair swishing. I roll my eyes again. We stop outside of her room and she turns to me.

"I'm really happy for your, Clary," she says sincerely, enveloping me in a bone crushing hug. "I love you, you know that right? I mean you are so much more than my best friend—you are honestly my sister and I've just only wanted what was best for you," she rambles. I laugh quietly, a smile spreading over my features.

"Of course, Isabelle," I reply, "I love you too. And I know you wanted the best for me _and_ Jace. It just took us a little bit to figure that out." We laugh and break from our hug.

"I'll say," my _sister_ replies laughing even more and soon we're sprawled on her bed, dying of uncontrollable, unexplained laughter, just like when we were in high school.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

The next week flies by so fast that it all kind of just blurs together. I remember Simon saying that he's just going to crash in mine and Izzy's apartment while I (and hopefully Jace) am shooting the movie in Martha's Vineyard to be closer to everyone, since Magnus and Alec live in Manhattan as well. I remember packing pretty much every single item of clothing I own into two very _large_ suit cases plus a carryon, and Izzy and Mags insisting that I at least _try_ to dress better while I'm away (I also remember ignoring them). I remember Jace squealing like a little girl who got a Barbie for Christmas when his motorcycle finally got shipped in. I remember booking our flight tickets (_expensive_ by the way). And I remember Jace and I kissing… quite a bit (cue horribly embarrassing blush).

So, now, Jace and I are all packed (our bags _"carefully" thrown_ into the trunk of a taxi) and, having said long and emotional goodbyes to our friends, we're climbing into the cab and headed to an airport so we can fly to Martha's Vineyard (me, for overseeing the production, him, for auditions). The whole ride to the airport, I'm bouncing my leg up and down in anticipation and nervousness. I feel the comforting pressure of Jace slipping his hand into mine.

"Hey, baby," he says gently, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. "What's wrong, beautiful?" I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.

"I'm just…worried. What if this whole thing turns to shit?" I ask quietly. "I mean, this is _my book_ we're talking about. What if the movie comes out horribly and people won't want to read it anymore?" I know I might be overthinking this a little, but I can't help it. My brain is going into overdrive thinking of all the possible ways this could end. Next to me, the golden haired man lets out a quiet laugh. I'm looking down at our intertwined hands, not daring letting him see the fear in my eyes.

"Clary, love," he says gently, "Look at my, baby." I continue staring intently at our hands. "Clarissa," he says, and this time I look up, my eyes glazed over with unshed tears of anxiousness. He sighs and uses his other thumb to swipe away a tear that had released itself. He pulls me into his lap and wraps both of his arms around me, securing me, making me sane. "I know it's scary, babe, but _trust me_, the movie is going to turn out fantastically—especially with you overseeing the filming. Everyone who watches it is going to love it." I smile at his total sincerity and blush as he leans down and kisses my nose. I lean my head against his muscular chest, slightly more at ease now.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "I love you."

"I know." I feel his reply rumble through his chest. I scoff and smack him lightly. "Kidding, kidding," he chuckles. "I love you too."

**JPoV:**

To say I'm nervous would be the understatement of the century. But right now, with my girlfriend curled up on my lap freaking out about her own career, I know I have to push the nerves down. This could be my first big break as an actor. It could really kick-start my career and I'm freaking out. We sit in silence for a minute, listening to the heavy Manhattan traffic whizzing past the windows of our cab. Suddenly, Clary stirs in my arms and cranes her head up to look at me.

"My turn," she says quietly, searching my face. I cock my head to the side and arch an eyebrow at her (something she _still_ can't do).

"What was that?"

"I said it's my turn," she repeats. "You calmed me down, now I get to calm you down." I scoff, not wanting her to see how freaked out I actually am.

"I'm fine, love," I insist. She lets out an exasperated sound that makes me grin like a maniac inwardly.

"Jace, you can be afraid. It's okay to be scared," Clary says. "We can be scared together." I chuckle at that. _She's adorable…and I'm whipped as fuck._

"Honestly, baby, I'm fine. I'm not scared about anything," I repeat and the little red-head sighs heavily.

"Jonathan Christopher," she threatens, tilting her head to the side a little bit.

"Clarissa Adele," I mock, making her blow out a slow breath of frustration.

"Really, Jace, I've known you since we were two. We know everything about each other. Do you honestly think I can't see that you're anxious about something?" she asks me gently. I puff out a sigh of defeat.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," I mumble. "I'm just a little freaked for the audition, that all."

"Was that so hard to do, Wayland?" she questions, adorably trying to raise a single eyebrow…and failing. I laugh, shaking my head.

"You're cute when you try to raise an eyebrow," I state, and watch joyfully as her face burns a red as bright as her hair.

"Yeah, well…" she mutters burying her face in my chest.

"Yup. That's my _outgoing_ little Clare-bear," I say chuckling.

"Yup. And that's my _jackass_ Jacey," she retorts raising her head up a little. I hold my hand over my heart and feign hurt.

"Who are you calling a jackass?" I say as if I really took offense to the comment. Clary's fiery head snaps up fully and she glares at me.

"Well, who are _you_ calling little?" she asks fiercely. I chuckle again.

"Just my fucking adorable, five-foot-zero girlfriend," I reply nonchalantly.

She frowns for a minute before muttering, "Damn you."

"What now?" I ask, laughing in surprise. Clary just smacks me upside the head with her small, but _immensely_ powerful, hands. _Shit, that hurt._

"I was _trying _to be mad at you," she starts hotly, "But I can't do that if you're making sappy comments at me left and right now can I?" I chuckle, for what feels like the umpteenth time this entire cab ride, and shake my head at her, just as the driver pulls into the massive parking lot of JFK Airport.

We pay and get out of the car, pulling all of our luggage out of the back and watch as the taxi driver speeds away. I look at Clary who is trying to get her two _giant ass_ suitcases, decent sized carryon, and messenger bag situated. I grab one of her big suitcases and the carryon (seeing as I only have one large suitcase and a small carryon myself) to lessen her load. She looks at me gratefully and we make our way into the terminal. We run through security, our bags taken to be put on the plane and then we're making our way over to a waiting area.

"You know that really hurt," I say rubbing my head as we sit down on a loveseat. The little red-head just gives me a smirk.

"Oh, man up, Wayland," she replies.

"You see, if I could smack you right now, I would," I say thoughtfully. Clary scoffs, and suddenly people are actually paying attention to our interesting exchange.

"You wouldn't dare," my girlfriend challenges, narrowing her bright green eyes at me. I smirk before I reply.

"I know. I wouldn't want to damage you beautiful face." A few people "aww" and everyone who is listening smiles, but Clary throws her hands in the air (a gesture that I remember distinctly means she's frustrated).

"Again with the sappy comments!" she exclaims. I pull her onto my lap so she's facing me and lean in close.

"You know you love me," I say cheekily, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

"Go to hell," she says against my lips, but I can see and feel her wide smile as I go to kiss her again.

**A/N: I am the worst person ever. Go ahead, call me the worst person ever. I think that was the longest it has ever taken me to update this story and for that I am really sorry. Anyway... that was chapter eleven! PURE FLUFF! Was it cute or what? Next chapter they will be arriving in Martha's Vineyard and I'm so so so so so so excited to start writing the movie filming chapters! Okay so I think that's it for now... don't forget to review! Reviewing spreads rainbows and happiness :D**

**Until next time, my lovelies!  
><strong>

**~MG**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belongs to the magnificent Cassandra Clare ;)**

**Chapter 12**

**CPoV:**

"Flight 632A to Martha's Vineyard is now boarding," I hear the monotone voice announce through the terminal. **(A/N: Be mindful, I haven't been on a plane since I was four years old, so I honestly have no idea how this works.)** I groan in response. I'm lying down on the loveseat in the waiting area, my head in Jace's lap and I'm _way_ too damn comfortable to even think about moving. Above me, Jace is looking down at me with amusement.

"Clary," he says a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "I think you need to get up, love."

"Oh, hell no," I reply immediately. "You make a _fantastic_ pillow." He chuckles and I can feel his body vibrate with the action. He arches an eyebrow at me. "Fiiiine," I groan again and sit up and letting him stand.

I grab my carryon and messenger bag, and fix shirt that had ridden up to a dangerously short level. I look briefly at what I'm wearing—a dark maroon maxi skirt, a gray crop top with the words YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS written in bold, black lettering (and my little belly-button piercing winking up at me) and my pair of army green Dr. Marten's (hey, having money means having more than one pair of cool shoes). I have on my usual mascara, but instead of lip balm, I'm wearing a dark burgundy lipstick and my, long, fiery hair is thrown into a messy bun. It's not exactly a glamorous outfit like Izzy and Mags want, but it's not bad.

I'm broken out of my reverie by Jace slipping his giant hand into my small one, interlocking our fingers. I look into his rich, golden eyes and a smile overtakes my face. We head off toward the gate hand in hand.

**JPoV:**

That fucking belly button piercing. I swear to God that fucking belly button piercing is going to give me a heart attack. Every time I look at it I just want to take her more and more. I don't even know why the hell it turns me on so much. It's just so damn sexy. And I think she means it when she says she never remembers it's there, because I honestly don't think she even knows what it does to me. And right now, with me already in one of the two seats and her stretching up to put her carryon in the top compartment of the airplane, I'm getting a fantastic view of it.

When she sits back down in the seat next to me, I lift up the arm rest and pull her to my side. "You know, babe," I say huskily, "You're going to have to cover up that damn piercing of yours unless you want me to do something bad." I smirk when I see a fierce blush rise in her cheeks, but when she looks right at me, her eyes are full of amusement. And I frown slightly when she starts to giggle.

"Is _that_ why you're so feisty today? Because my belly button piercing has you all hot and bothered?" she asks between gasps for breath. The corners of my mouth twitch up again and I raise an eyebrow.

"If I remember correctly, beautiful, I'd say you were just as feisty," I retort. Something in her expression changes at my words. Some of the light goes out of her normally luminescent eyes and her joking expression is long gone. I look at her worriedly.

She looks at me intently for a few seconds before speaking. "Jace, do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asks quietly, barely above a whisper. I'm literally shocked by her question.

"Clary…" I trail off, utterly confused, and shake my head. "You're gorgeous, sweetheart. Why would you ask me that?"

"I've just been thinking all week…about what that Sebastian guy said. And that girl at the club. About how they both said I'm not good enough for you. About how that girl said that nobody would love me." She cuts off with a groan. "Christ, listen to me! I sound like a fucking teenager." I shake my head with conviction and fit her even more snug against me—which isn't that impossible a task, considering she fits against my body perfectly.

"No, God no, baby," I reply. "I love you so much, you are so, so loved and the most beautiful woman I've ever had the fortune to know." She gives a mirthless laugh, but her eyes are teary and far away, not looking at me, but straight ahead—like she's remembering something.

"You know, you used to tease me all the time about how I looked." My heart shatters in my chest. _God, how could I have been so STUPID back then?_ "You would get other people to say it too. And I believed you guys." Clary's voice is a broken whisper. "I think…some part of me still does—like Sebastian and that girl. I can't help but wonder if that's what everyone thinks of me." As she says the last part a tear manages to escape and make its way down her cheek. Instead of using my thumb to swipe it away, I lean in a gently kiss it away.

"Clary, I need you to know that I can't even believe that I ever said those things to you. I hate myself more and more everyday thinking of how we left things when I moved to L.A. And it kills me to know what it's done to you." I see something in her eyes grow lighter—but only slightly.

"Really?" she whispers, looking away from me. I grab her chin firmly, but not painfully, with my fingers and gently turn her to look at me again.

"I love you, you pretentious, black souled little ginger." I decide to go out on a limb and tease her like I used to. I most likely will never stop—it's just too fun. Although in her vulnerable state I'm not sure how she is going to react, so I wait with bated breath. To my immense relief, an amused smile lights up her face.

"I love you too, you arrogant little asshat." I laugh out loud, eliciting some strange looks from other passengers.

"What the hell is an asshat anyway?" I ask. She's been using the term since we were about thirteen and nobody—I mean _NOBODY_—knows what it means. She laughs in reply and I smile inwardly.

"It's an asshat!" She exclaims above the loud background noise of the plane's passengers. "I don't know how to explain it!" And suddenly she's my Clary again—the one who's crazy and nerdy (and proud of it) and can quote _Marvel _movies and can match me insult for insult. She is so strong and it kills me to know that underneath that, she's broken from thing's that I've done. I know I will do anything to make up for what I did when we were younger.

I laugh and nuzzle my nose into her neck. "Mmm…" I mumble, "What did I do to deserve you?" I can feel her laugh and smile myself, placing kisses behind her ear.

"I ask myself that question all the time," she muses and I gasp in mock offense.

"That hurts, Clare-bear," I say, holding my hand over my heart. "I'm wounded." But I don't keep a straight face for long because Clary is smiling brightly at me, barely containing laughter, and then my lips are on hers.

**~~~LINE BREAK~~~**

About fifteen minutes later, after the plane had taken off, Clary and I resume our position with the arm rest up and her curled against my side. I have some earbuds in and my phone is playing music.

"What are you listening to?" I hear a soft voice at my shoulder. I crane my head down to look at Clary and smirk at her. I'm listening to Wheatus's _Teenage Dirtbag_ just started and she's always said she hates it—but I can see that, deep down, she loves it, just like any sane person.

"Oh, it's your favorite song, Clare-bear." She tilts her head to the side and looks at me curiously. I pull out one of the ear pieces and give it to her, watching as she fastens it in her ear. Immediately she screws her face up.

"Jace! You know I hate this song!" she exclaims. She's shaking her head, but there's a smile on her face and a laugh in her voice. I chuckle and restart the song, smiling at her as the singing starts. I start mouthing the words to her dramatically, a wide smile on my face and I feel an overwhelming sense of pride when she starts to mouth the words back at me.

_Her name is Noel  
>I have a dream about her<br>She rings my bell  
>I got gym class in half an hour<br>Oh, how she rocks  
>In Keds and tube socks<br>But she doesn't know who I am  
>And she doesn't give a damn about me<em>

Clary's nose is scrunched up adorably as she recites the song word for word, silently. I _knew_ she loved this song.

_'__Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby  
>Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby<br>Listen to Iron Maiden maybe with me  
>Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh<em>

_Her boyfriend's a dick  
>And he brings a gun to school<br>And he'd simply kick  
>My ass if he knew the truth<br>He lives on my block  
>And drives an IROC<br>But he doesn't know who I am  
>And he doesn't give a damn about me<em>

_'__Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby  
>Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby<br>Listen to Iron Maiden maybe with me  
>Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh<em>

_Oh yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missing  
>Oh yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missing<em>

_Man, I feel like mold  
>It's prom night and I am lonely<br>Lo and behold  
>She's walking over to me<br>This must be fake  
>My lip starts to shake<br>How does she know who I am?  
>And why does she give a damn about me?<em>

I stop singing along and let Clary do the next part solo, since the singer mimics a girl's voice—very badly…

_"__I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden baby  
>Come with me Friday, don't say maybe<br>I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you  
>Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh<em>

_Oh yeah, dirtbag, no she doesn't know what she's missing  
>Oh yeah, dirtbag, no she doesn't know what she's missing<em>

As the song finishes, Clary and I air-guitar the last chords dramatically, barely controlling our outrageous laughter.

"I always knew you liked that song," I muse.

"I don't like that song," she replies evenly. She opens her mouth—possibly to stress even more how she "doesn't like the song"—but is cut off by someone sitting in the aisle next to us.

"Yo, buddy," the guy says. He looks to be about my age, maybe a little older with dark brown hair and amused-looking blue eyes. Why is he talking to me? "The plane should be landing in a few minutes and, uh, you might want to wipe your girlfriend's lips off your face before you get off," he finishes, chuckling. My eyes snap open and I swipe my thumb across my bottom lip and it comes away with a dark red smudge. Meanwhile Clary is laughing gleefully next to me, swiping on some more of the evil substance. I look at her incredulously, and then back at the guy who saved my life, since my _lovely_ girlfriend had no intention of telling me that my face was covered in her lipstick.

"Thanks, dude," I say to the guy, while wiping the red off my face. "You saved me. _This one_ over here—" I pinch Clary's side making her yelp a little, "—seems to think it's hilarious to publically embarrass me." The little red-head makes an indignant noise.

"Oh, that's rich, Jace," she says with a playful scowl on her face. The guy in the next aisle chuckles.

"How long have you two been dating?" he asks. Clary pokes her head further around my torso to look at him.

"Actually we've only been dating for about a week," she admits, "But we've known each other since we were two." He chuckles again. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?"

He smiles fondly before replying. "Yeah, she's in the bathroom right now. We're going to Martha's Vineyard together for a vacation. We've been dating for about two years and…" he looks around him as if making sure the coast is clear, "I'm going to propose to her tonight."

**CPoV:**

I gasp. "That's wonderful!" I exclaim, but cut off when the guy gestures for me to be quiet because not a few seconds later a beautiful girl with long, sandy hair and warm, brown eyes sits down next to him. The guy winks at me—it was good natured, not in _that_ way, ya' horrible people—and grabs her hand seeming to slip into a deep conversation with her. I smile, happy for them. I hope she says yes—and judging from the way she looks at him—her eyes full of love, adoration and joy—she will.

I look over (read "up", seeing as I'm nestled into his side…and he's about a foot taller than me even when we're sitting) at Jace who has just finished wiping my lipstick off of his face. I chuckle inwardly, proud of myself for failing to mention it for so long. I decide to poke more fun at him since it's so damn hilarious.

"Jace?" I ask tentatively looking up at him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he questions looking at me with his beautiful, swirling, golden mesmerizing eyes… I almost get lost before I remember what I wanted to say.

"You missed a spot," I say matter-of-factly. Curiosity and confusion dance across his face and he raises an eyebrow before running a hand across the lower half of his face. He pulls it back and looks at it then back at me. I can almost physically see the confusion growing on his face.

"It looks like I got it all. Are you sure I missed some?" I smile deviously and lean closer.

"Yeah," I say slowly. "Right… here." I quickly grab his head in both of my hands and kiss him all over—his nose, cheeks, lips, forehead, and jaw— every inch of his face. I even get his eyes lids which I am quite proud of. I pull back and look at my work, a goofy smile plastered on my face. Jace, on the other hand, is totally slack. His shoulders are slumped downward and his hands are just sitting loosely on his lap. Even his face doesn't seem to have an expression, but it does. I can read it loud and clear. It says: "Really, Clary? Really?"

After a pause, Jace says, "Are you happy now?" I just look at him levelly.

"Extremely."

**A/N: I'm a liar. A huge, gigantic liar. I told you guys that they would be landing in Martha's Vineyard in this chapter, but they didn't. Go ahead. Call me a liar. But I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to write more fluff... fluff on a ****_plane!_**** Plus, I took a really long time to update again, for which I am very sorry, but this chapter is super, super, super long, so I hope that makes up for it. Next chapter Clary and Jace are DEFINITELY landing in Martha's Vineyard if it kills me. Don't forget to favorite and review. If you do I'll... send Jace to your house wrapped up in a bow. Just kidding... I can't do that. I ****_wish_**** I could... but... ****_apparently_****...********I don't own him or something...**

**So I think that's it!**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG**


	13. Author's Note PLEASE READ

**Wow. Okay. So I just got my first negative review. I'm not going to lie it shook me up a bit (don't worry though, I will keep writing). Um, yeah it was pretty bad and I just wanted to have this author's note to say a little something about reviewing. Please be respectful. Constructive criticism is one thing. I actually like a bit of constructive criticism here and there and have gotten many PM's with some concerns as well as some great ideas. But being mean and rude is not only degrading your own character, but may be seriously harming the person you sent it to. I get that everybody has opinions and that is great, truly! But sometimes it's better to keep them private.**

**Please, please, please...**

**Be KIND**

**Be RESPECTFUL**

**Be HELPFUL**

**Be THOUGHTFUL**

**And REMEMBER...**

**Your words not only have the power to build other people up, but to tear them down as well.**

**THINK BEFORE YOU TYPE~ I guarantee you will feel better about yourself later :)**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**~MG ;)**


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